


If The Blazer Fits

by FlyYouFools (MK47)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 74,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MK47/pseuds/FlyYouFools
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma decides to dress up like Regina for a Halloween party at The Rabbit Hole, a seemingly innocent decision that surprisingly leads to a relationship. The romance is openly feared by some and secretly despised by an unlikely source, who plots to end it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set S2, right after Queen of Hearts. Thanks for Alaska829Snow for the beta and general awesomeness. I own nothing but the knowledge that SQ fandom writes rings around the OUAT writing staff.

_This is such a bad idea,_ Emma thought as she peered into her bedroom mirror and made the last adjustments on her wig.

Casting a final critical eye, the Sheriff appraised herself: layered, shoulder-length raven hair, black blazer, tight black pencil shirt, crisp white Oxford shirt - straining at the third button - and four-inch black stilettos.

Her makeup was pronounced and vivid, two adjectives never associated with the face of Emma Swan. Smooth powder foundation set the scene with defined light-pink blush hugging her cheekbones. Heavy black eyeliner, mascara and deep rose-red lipstick with maroon liner provided stark definition. The pièce de résistance – brown contacts picked up at a Halloween outlet two towns over.

"Well, well, well," a voice innocently drawled behind her, "if it isn't Madame Mayor."

Emma spun around, eyes narrowed in suspicion and anger to provide the full effect.

Ruby gaped, then howled with laughter. "That is _fucking_ perfect!"

"You think so?" Emma looked so similar to Regina, it was eerie to hear the blonde's voice come out of the ex-Mayor's mouth.

"I know so. Your mom's gonna _die_."

Emma shut off her bedroom light and headed downstairs, Ruby right behind.

"Well, I hope not, although that would be right in line with the costume."

Emma crossed the room, heading to the kitchen island to grab her purse – another costume accessory. She had to borrow it from Snow, Emma certainly didn't have one. ("Why do you need my black purse?" Snow asked suspiciously. "You'll see." "That's what I'm afraid of.")

"Are you sure it's not too much?"

"What? It's the funniest thing I've seen in forever."

"I don't know." The Savior shrugged. "I just…I mean, she is Henry's mother. It's not kicking her when she's down, is it?"

"Do you think Regina ever worried about kicking someone when they were down?"

Emma nodded her head in agreement, feeling slightly less guilty. "Good point."

"Plus, it's not like she's going to see it, she won't be there. I guarantee it, you'll be the hit of the party."

When Ruby floated the idea of a Halloween party three weeks earlier, Emma jumped on board. After the unwanted adventures in the Enchanted Forrest, which fell right on the heels of the curse breaking and the ensuing general chaos, everyone needed a good reason to celebrate. And by "celebrate", Ruby meant get drunk and let loose, two things to which Emma had no objection and could solidly support. It had been such a long time since she had done either.

The party was the talk of the town since it was decided and Emma spent a good two weeks trying to find the perfect costume. Nothing enticed her, until one evening when she dropped Henry off at Regina's for a visit and found the former mayor in a mood. Emma had no idea what caused it, only that at the moment she was the recipient of all of Regina's ill will and vitriol.

Tired of fighting, especially since she didn't know what Regina was so wound up about, Emma let the woman vent. She simply stood there, mind wandering, as the brunette ranted and raved.

Emma looked contrite and added an "Um hmm" here and an "OK" there, studying Henry's mother and silently wondering when she could leave. She took in the petite woman, still resplendent in her mayoral finery despite the fact she was essentially deposed. Blazer. Pencil skirt. White blouse. Heels.

The image hit her brain so hard she nearly reared her head back. _Now_ that's a _costume_.

"OK," she said genially, taking her leave regardless of whether the woman was finished. "I gotta go. I have shopping to do."

Emma snapped out of her reverie, turned and looked at her friend. She had been so preoccupied with her costume, she didn't get a good look at Ruby's.

"Playing against type?" the blonde asked, confusion on her face.

The long, leggy woman stood in front of her every inch…Mother Superior? Ruby wore a royal blue cloak, buttoned at the neck and covering her completely to the calves. Tan pantyhose encased her legs and sensible, black, old-lady loafers completed the sedate ensemble. Her sleek, jet-black locks was swept into a conservative up-do.

"Well, I am a _mother_ ," she smirked. "And quite superior."

With a flourish, she flipped the cape back over her shoulders to reveal the rest of her outfit: The nun's trademark Peter Pan collar hugged her neck, topping a skin-tight white halter top that ended just below her generous chest. The smooth, taut planes of Ruby's abs gave way to the shortest, tightest pair of white hot pants Emma had ever seen.

"Slutty Mother Superior? Seriously?" Emma laughed. "Blue probably has the nuns in chapel right now lighting candles and praying for your sinful soul."

"Thank the gods," she replied, covering herself in the cloak once again. "I need all the help I can get."

Emma pushed off the kitchen island and headed for the front door to leave.

"This is such a bad idea," she said, unsure if she was reminding herself, asking her friend or both. It was fun in a wicked way, pretending to be Regina for a night, but there was still that underpinning of dread. Was it guilt? She had no idea, regardless, she remembered what Ruby said - it wasn't like her doppelganger was going to be there. No one had invited the former Evil Queen to the party, and Emma knew even if they did she certainly would never show up.

"That only means one thing," Ruby noted as she walked out the door. "It's such a bad idea, it's actually good."

XXXX

Snow walked into The Rabbit Hole on David's arm with a broad smile.

The already-dark bar seemed even gloomier, decorated for the party with lit pumpkins (fire laws be damned), cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and a black light here and there.

Granted, most of the attendees had actually seen real witches, werewolves, spirits and the like, so the decorations were more cute than intimidating. But it was fun. _And_ , Snow mused, _this town sorely needs some fun._

Word about the party spread quickly among the town's adults; all except for one. Despite the fact that she recently saved Snow and Emma from their former land – at great danger to herself – Regina was still persona non grata everywhere she went. Emma had tried to include her at the impromptu Welcome Back party at Granny's but it backfired and was awkward for all parties, to say the least.

Instead of forcing the issue of peaceful coexistence, Emma uncharacteristically decided to let it develop in its own time. She would treat the reforming Regina with respect and decency (except for tonight, of course) and hoped the others would eventually follow suit.

So while every adult in Storybrooke was tearing it up at the bar tonight, the former Evil Queen was ensconced in her mansion, none the wiser, happily welcoming her son for an overnight visit.

_What she doesn't know won't hurt her,_ Snow realized. _Or, more importantly, my family._

Snow followed David to the bar for a drink, but before she reached it she felt a presence at her back.

"Just where do you think you're going, Miss Blanchard?" a low alto voice hissed smoothly in her ear.

Although Snow hadn't been addressed as such in months, the tone, tenor and epithet meant only one person. A chill instinctively ran up the brunette's spine, the tiny hairs on her neck standing at attention. Her stomach dropped as she slowly turned and found Regina right behind her, hands on her hips, scowling. _Wait, something's not…_

"Emma?"

The look on Snow's face was classic. The royal bad-ass archer had been instantaneously replaced by horrified, meek, virginal Mary Margaret. Emma wished she had a camera, but then quickly felt guilty that she so terrified her mother she broke character and started howling with laughter.

"Em…Emma? EMMA!" Snow held her hand over her heart in a failed attempt to calm the hammering. "How could you? That is not funny!"

"Hey…" she explained defensively, wiping tears out of her eyes, "…costumes are supposed to be scary. Oh, shit, my makeup."

"Well, this is just…excessive, honey." The woman narrowed her gaze as she examined her daughter. "Gods, you look so much like her. Are you trying to kill me?"

Emma smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "Comes with the costume."

Ruby sauntered out of the shadows, hooting so hard she actually snorted. "Jesus, Snow. That was classic. You looked like you were going to wet your pants." The schoolteacher eyed her friend accusingly.

"Were you in on this?" Ruby held up her hands, palms out. "I knew about it, but your daughter dreamt it up. You're more to blame than me, _you_ lent her the purse."

"Don't remind me."

Charming walked up dressed as Paul Bunyon, a fake beard on his face, two mugs of punch in his hand and a question on his lips. "Snow, have you seen…"

He pulled up quick at the sight of the ex-mayor, the drinks sloshing over the sides of the steins. He opened his mouth to speak, baffled as to why Regina was here and grinning at his wife. Charming instinctively reached across his body only to find his hip - no sword. "What's the mean—"

"Hey, David."

The prince's mouth opened as he heard his daughter's voice and the realization slowly washed over him. "That's…that's just _wrong_ ," he noted, clearly displeased.

"Sorry. I thought it was pretty funny." _Maybe this costume was a bad idea._

David walked up alongside Snow, handing her a drink. He placed an arm around her shoulder, rubbing hers slowly in reassurance.

Emma eyed her parents sincerely. "I'm sorry, you guys," she apologized again, reaching for Snow's hand. The sentiment lost some of its effectiveness coming from a person dressed as someone who repeatedly tried to kill them. "If I knew it would freak you out so much, I would have picked something else."

"Speaking of which," Ruby turned to Snow, cocking her head, "what are you supposed to be?"

The brunette smiled in self-satisfaction, clad in yellow rubber head to toe: suspenders, pants, jacket and giant hat.

"A lobsterman!" she chirped.

"That's pretty geeky, Snow, even for you."

"Me? You're dressed as Mother Superior."

Ruby's lips parted in a wolfish grin as she flung back her cloak with a cackle.

Charming's eyes bugged out and a faint, "Whoa" escaped his lips.

Snow wheezed, eyebrows close to her hairline. "No offense – and I love you both - but I can't handle one more second staring at my daughter dressed as Regina and Ruby an inch away from public indecency."

Snow grabbed her husband's arm, shaking her head at the pair as they left to mingle. "We'll see you later."

"My first Halloween with my parents and I've horrified them," Emma observed sheepishly as she watched the couple walk away.

"Mission accomplished, I'd say." Ruby adjusted her cloak and threaded her arm through Emma's. "Now, let's get a drink."

The women walked up to the bar to find Leroy dispensing punch out of a black cauldron, dry ice wafting menacingly.

"Well, this is rich," Emma sneered in her best Regina impression. "The town drunk ladling out alcohol."

Leroy looked up from the cauldron, his face impassive. "Fuck you, you frigid bitch." He filled two tankards and when he looked up, his face was split into a grin. "Man, I have always wanted to say that."

"You're welcome," Emma replied lightly.

"Here you go, sister." Leroy was sporting a black T-shirt that proclaimed "COSTUME" in white block letters as he handed Emma a large mug, then turned to Ruby with a leer, her drink and a nod of his head. "Mother."

The wolf raised an eyebrow and opened her cape.

Leroy whistled low and slow in appreciation. "I'll convert for you, anytime."

Ruby sipped her drink with a satisfied "Mmmmmm" then sauntered off to tend to her wayward flock. Emma followed suit with a big pull off the mug, only to find herself immediately gasping and coughing.

"Jesus Christ, Leroy! What is this?"

"They call it Dutchman," he explained, as if she asked the sum of 2 + 2. "Legend has it it's the cure for all your troubles. But over here…" his voice dropped to a rumbling whisper, "they also use it to strip paint down at the docks."

"What's in it?" Emma grimaced, the memory of chimera bubbling to the surface as she peered into the glass.

"Mostly grain alcohol. Some fruit punch. And other stuff, but it's really the first two that do the job."

"What job? Causing blindness?"

Leroy gave her a thoughtful stare. "Don't rule it out. This drink is, like, a-hundred-and-ninety proof."

Emma took another sip, hoping it got better. "Looks like it stunts your growth, too."

"Ha, ha, sunshine. Drink up." He paused for a second, his grey eyes crinkling at the corners. "You deserve it."

_I do,_ Emma realized. So, she did.

XXXX

Two large mugs of Dutchman later, Emma had few coherent thoughts except for one, _This was such a great idea._

Role-playing with Leroy was so much fun, she took her traveling one-woman bitch-queen act around the bar, greeting revelers in pure, unadulterated Mayor Mills fashion, leveling icy glares and cutting remarks at every person she saw.

Emma insulted, jeered and taunted her way from group to group. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her top lip in disgust at each person, cutting all to the quick just as Regina would. Emma was eerily good at it, perhaps from being on the business end of so much of the woman's venom herself.

"Regina" would slander the subject, who would then respond in an alarmingly-thorough array of profanity and vulgar suggestions. Then both ex-Mayor and citizen would laugh uproariously, followed by a clap on the shoulder, a job well done.

Emma had just finished blasting Happy as a "vertically-challenged moronic imbecile" when she was jostled from behind. She wheeled around to find Archie.

"You idiotic bug," she spat slowly. "Watch where you are going or I will crush you beneath my heel like the pathetic insect you are."

"Oh, uh…hi, um, Emma?"

"Really?" The blonde's voice had returned to normal. "That's all you've got?"

"Well, I'm not going to yell at you, if that's what you want."

Emma's head cocked in confusion as she took in a glasses-less Archie sporting a white beard, wearing a three-piece suit and holding a cigar. "Who are you supposed to be, one of the cough-drop guys?"

"Who? No, I'm Freud."

"Huh. So, you don't want to yell at me? Tell me off?"

"Um, no," he reached to adjust his glasses out of habit, only to realize they weren't there. "I've made my peace with the past…and Regina."

"It's OK. We're all having fun." Emma brandished a big grin and waved her stein of Dutchman. It was true, everyone was having a grand time. The bar was packed, everyone was drinking, dancing and laughing – normal, healthy pursuits for this tiny, abnormal town.

"Everyone's having their say without getting fireball-pelted to Hell." She paused for a moment, then her face lit up. "Hey, it's like free therapy. I'm gonna put you out of a job." She giggled as she gave Archie a friendly punch on the shoulder, which caused her to stagger sideways, her balance falling victim to the potent drink.

The therapist reached for Emma's blazer-clad arm to steady her. "I wouldn't hang your shingle just yet," he said cautiously. "And take it easy on the punch, it's quite potent."

Emma raised the tankard to her lips and her eyebrows in agreement as she turned to find her next victim, only to discover her mug was empty. She found herself in a happy, drunken haze, in which everything was funny, everyone was a friend and nothing hurt. It would tomorrow, for sure. But now, right now, everything was wonderful and carefree, and Emma did not want it to end.

"This will not do!" she yelled imperiously as she stalked over to the bar for a refill. "Leroy, you cretinous troll, fetch me another drink."

The miner was nowhere to be found, so Emma climbed atop the bar to look for him in the crowd. When the party-goers got a gander at their ex-Mayor high above them, they began to heckle, boo and yell - all with huge smiles on their faces. Everyone, that is, except for Snow White, who was desperate to get her daughter off the bar.

She was worried the drunk woman was going to kill herself, standing on a wet bar in four-inch heels. Truth be told, a sober Emma wasn't so great with heels of any height on level, bare pavement. And to add insult to potential injury, Snow was quickly turning red at the filthy suggestions her friends were hurling at her only child, even though in jest.

"Emma. Emma, get down! You're going to hurt yourself."

Emma looked down at her tiny mother - encased in yellow rubber, her face so earnest beneath a gigantic fisherman's hat - and erupted in laughter. She would have toppled off had Leroy not returned just in time to grab her by the calves and steady her. The Savior slowly got back in character, curling her lip in a cruel smile.

"How dare you try to tell me what to do, Snow White! You've ruined my life long enough!"

The crowd exploded with a roar, egging her on further.

Emma slowly gazed across the party, shooting daggers and thundering a warning to the drunken, happy masses.

"You pathetic peasants disgust me. Mark my words, I shall destroy your happiness as if it is the last thing I do."

The horde gasped as one and fell silent.

Emma was stunned as she glanced around the room filled with wide eyes, shuffling bodies and indistinct murmuring. Her booze-soaked, foggy brain registered one thought: _Jesus, I am good._

"Did you idiots not hear me?" she asked acidly. "I shall destroy your happiness as if it is the last thing I do."

A low, even voice rang out near the front door. "Oh, they heard you Miss Swan."

Emma looked to pinpoint the location of the voice and saw Regina's cool stare come into focus. It was the last thing she saw before she toppled off the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is such a bad idea,_ Archie thought as he drove to Regina's house, his car full of women displaying varying degrees of sobriety.

"Emma, please," Snow pleaded, half drunk and fully desperate to get her daughter to listen to reason and abandon her plan.

"I have to go apologize," she slurred. Whether she was dizzier from her dive off the bar or the large amount of Dutchman was anyone's guess. The blonde leaned her head against her mother in the backseat, an ice pack lodged between Snow's shoulder and the back of Emma's head.

Ruby turned around from the front and chimed in. "She's right. This is suicide. Regina was steaming when she left with David, do you think she'll be any happier if you wake her up in the middle of the night? At least friggin' change first."

Emma glanced down, realizing she had totally forgotten about her Mayor Mills costume, which was now missing its wig and blazer. Instead of looking like Maine's scariest, sexiest autocrat, the Sheriff looked like a businesswoman about to get admitted to 30-day rehab.

"Why did she go with David again?" Emma asked, confused.

Snow gasped. "Memory loss! That's one of the signs. Archie, take us to the hospital, please."

"Relax, woman," Ruby commanded. It was the sign of a truly bizarre night if the wild waitress was the voice of reason. "She's drunk, not brain damaged. And besides, her head barely hit the bar rail."

"Yeah, I'm not going to the hospital, I never want to see Whale again."

_Emma came to lying on the sticky, wooden floor of The Rabbit Hole, her head resting on her mother's thigh and a blindingly bright light blocking her field of vision. A mix of ammonia, stale beer and sickeningly sweet punch wafted under her nose, making her stomach roll dangerously. When the light withdrew and her eyes focused, the first sight she saw was Dr. Whale dressed as The Cat in the Hat._

_"What the hell?" Emma groaned, lurching backward, but stopping short as she winced, feeling the full effect of her tumble. "Ow. What happened?" Her eyes were wild as she tried to simultaneously focus and squint._

_Red snorted. "You fell off the bar when Regina came in."_

_"Oh, shit…that's right." A pang of guilt and regret immediately rocketed through her chest as she remembered the scene._

_"You went ass-over-teakettle backwards off the bar. Leroy caught you, but your head dinged the bar rail. You're lucky that little fucker is as strong as an ox."_

_Emma heard an indignant "Hey!" in the distance, along with conversation, laughter, music and clinking glasses. Despite the fact The Savior was unceremoniously splayed out on the floor with a minor head injury, the party continued unabated._

_"It could have been much worse," Whale noted. "You're lucky."_

_Emma closed her eyes, she couldn't look at him. In whiteface, whiskers and that freaky hat, he was even creepier than normal, something she previously had doubted was possible._

_"You were unconscious for about 5 minutes and you've got a decent egg on the back of your head, but you're not presenting any signs of a concussion. Take some aspirin, drink some water, get some sleep and sober up."_

_"And on that note," the doctor announced rising from his knees and leering at a woman dressed in a skin-tight nurse's uniform, "I have a conversation to finish."_

_Emma sat up slowly and leaned her back against the wall. "Where's Regina? Why was she here, anyway?"_

_"You forgot to send Henry's amoxicillin with him." Snow maneuvered next to her daughter, mirroring her position._

_"That's right." Emma sighed groggily. "The ear infection."_

_Snow smiled, pleased that her daughter remembered that much. "Henry forgot his keys at the apartment, so Regina came over here to get yours."_

_"How did she know I was here? I didn't tell her what I was doing tonight."_

_"Obviously," Ruby deadpanned. She bit her lip and unsuccessfully tried to hold back a grin. "Henry put a GPS locator app on your phone."_

_"What? That little shit! When?"_

_"Hey, he likes to know where you are. He did it after you got back from the Enchanted Forest."_

_Snow looked at her daughter pointedly. "I can't say that I blame him."_

_"Yeah, but it's my phone. What about privacy?"_

_"It was private," Ruby laughed, "you didn't even know it was there."_

_"But you did?"_

_She snickered as she replaced Emma's ice pack with a fresh one. "Hey, the kid and I are friends. It's not his fault you don't know how to do anything other than dial. Your password is 1234 for Christ's sake. A toddler could load apps on your phone."_

_"Get me my phone," Emma demanded petulantly._

_Snow handed the woman her purse. She dug out her phone and found two missed calls and two texts from Regina from earlier that evening. Handing it to Ruby she ordered, "Fix it."_

_One finger swipe and five taps later, she gave it back. "There. You're incognito once more."_

_"So where's Regina?"_

_"Well, after you fell off the bar –" Ruby began giggling at the memory._

_"Seriously? Could you enjoy this a little less?"_

_"Sorry, it was so goddamn funny. Anyway, your father grabbed your keys and they left for your place so she could get Henry's meds."_

_"Did she say anything? Was she mad? Did she yell?"_

_Snow grimaced._

_"What do you think?" Red noted. "But she always looks pissed. She didn't say anything, yell or fireball your ass. You fell, Snow ran to you. Regina found your father, and they left with your keys."_

_Emma moaned and closed her eyes. "I gotta make this right."_

Emma was still lying, eyes closed, on her mother's shoulder when she felt Archie press on the breaks and stop outside what she assumed was 108 Mifflin Street.

"There's no lights on, Emma. C'mon, this can wait till tomorrow," Ruby urged.

"No, I have to make this right tonight."

"No, Emma." Snow tried to sound as stern as possible. "We're taking you home."

"No, Mom, I am going to apologize. Let me out."

"Fine, say you're sorry and then get back in here."

Emma groaned, slowly opened her eyes and leaned forward, removing the ice pack from her head.

"Listen, Regina's going to be ticked off enough to see me as it is, how will she react if she sees you three in the car waiting for me? She'd probably think it's a setup and I'm trying to prank her - _again_. Just leave me. I'll apologize, hopefully not get killed, and then call you for a ride. Or just walk back."

"Emma…" The woman followed her mother's eyes until they landed on her stiletto-clad feet.

"Right, I'll call you for a ride."

Snow sighed heavily and called for backup. "Archie?"

"Emma is a grown woman," he noted diplomatically. "I truly don't believe Regina would hurt her."

"I'm telling you," the blonde insisted. "She's changed. She's — " And then it hit her, the reason behind that doubt about her costume choice. Regina was trying to change. She was trying to become a better person. _She saved my life. And I betrayed her._

"What?" Ruby asked.

"Nothing, just let me out," she noted quietly. "Please."

Emma opened the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk, only to lean back in and address her mother, whose concern was written all over her face.

"She's not going to kill me. Yes, she's mad, but she won't hurt me. I'll call you guys for a ride home."

Emma closed the door and did her best to march up the walkway as soberly as possible.

Snow watched her daughter hobble away shakily, then leaned toward her friend in the front seat. "You didn't actually remove that app from her phone, right?"

The brunette chuckled. "Of course not, I just moved icons around. Not only is it still there, it's still on. Give me your phone and I'll set it up so you can track her, too."

"Ladies, just so you know, if asked I will deny I know any of this," Archie declared as she put the car in drive and pulled away.

"Whatever you say, Doc. Now, get us back to the party, the night's still young."

XXXX

Regina woke up with a start, her heart in her throat at the sound of the pounding on the door. As a royal or a civilian, middle-of-the-night surprise wake-up calls usually meant bad news. Peeking out the window she spied – oh, gods – Miss Swan bracing herself against a pillar.

A flare of anger rose in her chest as the banging resumed once more. Thank goodness the medication knocked Henry out soundly, it was one thing to scare her in the middle of the night, quite another inexcusable error to awaken her sick son.

The woman pulled on a robe and slippers, her outrage mounting with each step down the stairs and every step closer to the front door as she remembered the evening's events.

_Regina pulled up to The Rabbit Hole wishing she was anywhere else. It was a point of pride that she had never entered the establishment in its 29 years of existence. She wasn't a fan of excessive drinking and even though she didn't know exactly who was inside at the moment, she was pretty sure she wasn't an admirer of theirs, either._

_However, Henry was still fighting an ear infection, Miss Swan wasn't answering her phone and their son needed his medication, which thanks to Emma was currently locked in her apartment. Regina sighed, amazed that even when the blonde was trying to do something considerate, such as let Henry sleep over, she still managed to aggravate Regina, this time by forgetting the meds, failing to ensure Henry had his keys and refusing to answer her phone._

_When it came to the subject of Miss Swan it was, as of late, one step forward, two steps back._

_Regina pushed open the heavy door and was rocked by the transition from crisp, clean, fall evening into a building simmering with stale air, sweat, alcohol and body heat. Everyone in the crowd was standing still, directing their attention to the bar. "How dare you try to tell me what to do, Snow White! You've ruined my life long enough!"_

_She followed their gaze to see a surprisingly well-dressed woman perched atop it, threatening and shouting at the crowd._

_"You pathetic peasants disgust me. Mark my words, I shall destroy your happiness as if it is the last thing I do."_

_Wait, that woman looked like…_

_The crowd turned toward Regina one by one as they realized her presence. Gasps and murmurs filled the room, the revelers watching her, waiting for her next move. Humiliation and wrath burst in her chest, accompanied by the tell-tale tingle of magic at the ready. Just a gentle wave of her fingers could produce a fireball and a well-aimed toss would quickly end this party and teach Miss Swan – and the whole damn town – a much-needed lesson in humility._

_It was tempting, nearly irresistible. Magic so close and so strong she could practically taste it, still, after all these years. Yet Regina heard her mother's words ring unbidden in her mind._

_"Never reveal your true emotions, darling," she remembered Cora smoothly advising as they walked through the palace gardens one day. "There are always those out there who will use them against you."_

_Even though her mother was pure evil, Regina knew she was right. Royals rarely disclosed their true feelings in public, and even though Regina hadn't sat on a throne in nearly three decades, she still considered herself regal through and through._

_She refused to give the crowd the satisfaction. They expected her to rage? To throw fireballs? Then she would do the opposite. If an enemy expects you to go left, go right. And as far as Regina was concerned, everyone in this godforsaken hole was an enemy._

_Except for Emma, at least she thought that was the case. After their talk outside the party at Granny's, Regina thought they understood each other better. Each woman was trying, truly trying, to set aside their concerns and trust the other._

_Emma ensured Regina got regular visits with Henry, even though others questioned the move. The former queen would never forget the day she walked down the corridor to the Sheriff's office and overheard Emma on the phone. "No, he's going to Regina's for dinner and that's final. She is his mother. Regina would never hurt him and she's trying hard to be better. I can see it. I believe in her."_

_The brunette's heart soared at the accidental eavesdropping. She was trying, and people – well, at least Emma – were noticing. Which is why it stung so fiercely when she walked into The Rabbit Hole and found her one ally in town drunkenly mocking her. Look where all the effort - the hard work - got me, she thought. Degraded. Ridiculed in public. I saved their precious savior, their cherished Snow yet it wasn't good enough, Regina realized bitterly. It will never be good enough._

_"Did you idiots not hear me?" Emma's voice rang out acidly from across the room. "I shall destroy your happiness as if it is the last thing I do."_

_"Oh, they heard you Miss Swan."_

_Before Regina could decide what to do next, her doppelganger took herself out, tumbling backwards off the bar. A blur of yellow – was that Snow? – ran behind to help her, leaving Regina to find David and Ruby on the edge of the crowd._

_"Henry left his medication and his keys at the apartment," she coolly declared. "I need you to get your daughter's keys. Follow me there and let me in so I can retrieve it."_

_David nodded mutely, still processing the scene that just unfolded. He found Emma's purse near the bar, grabbed her keys and followed Regina back out into the pitch-black October night._

Swaying unsteadily on Regina's porch, Emma Swan had an epiphany. This was such a bad idea. The effects of the liquor and the adrenaline from the party, her fall and its aftermath were wearing off quickly. Her head was throbbing and her nerves were rising. She had put so much thought and effort into simply getting to Regina's front door, she didn't know what to say when the porch light blazed on and the door swung open.

"Regina, I—"

" _How dare you_ ," the brunette's eyes burned with outrage, her voice scathing. "Your brazenness, _your utter gall_ , knows no bounds, does it? Mocking me in public, then waking me up in the middle of the night? For what, Miss Swan? Was there some aspect of your performance I missed?"

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out as the Savior was completely dumbfounded by the verbal assault. Yet one thought shoved its way to the front of her alcohol-soaked brain. _She looks so young._ Scrubbed clean of makeup, sleep-mussed hair and sporting a silk robe and slippers, Emma couldn't believe how non-threatening, how normal, how…cute the ex-Mayor looked. _Cute?_

"I —"

"You mocked me. You ridiculed me. And you expect me to allow you into _my_ home to assuage _your_ conscience? So _you_ can feel better? Think again, Miss Swan."

Regina moved to the edge of the doorway, leaning closer, her voice a harsh whisper.

"That's the problem. Everyone caters to you. It's all about you. You are a spoiled child. Regardless of what we actually do, it's always the same: You can never do anything wrong and I can never do anything right.

"I am Henry's mother. _He is my son._ Your behavior reflects poorly not only on yourself, but also on him. So if you don't think about yourself the next time you decide to put on a show for the drunks at the bar, at least think about him before you act like a total ass in public, Princess."

Emma's eyes widened at the onslaught and she pulled in a ragged breath.

"Now," Regina hissed with pure disdain. "Get off my porch."

The brunette slammed the door so hard, the thin windows on either side rattled with the impact. Emma was bracing herself against the pillar once more, weary from the confrontation, when the porch lights shut off, leaving her in the dark.

She slid down the pillar and sat on the brick step, her thin skirt doing little to protect her thighs from the freezing clay. Emma pulled out her phone and opened her contacts, her finger hovering over Archie's name as she had a thought.

Scrolling down, she pulled up Regina's number and hit the Message icon. _See, Ruby, I_ can _text_ , she thought smugly.

**Give me 5 minutes. Please.**

Emma sat in the cold dark, listening to the wind rustle the remaining leaves on the giant maple that dominated the right side of the yard. She checked the clock, noting she sent the text 7 minutes earlier. _Three more_ , she thought fighting off a shiver, _and I call Archie._

The blonde jumped with a start as she heard the door open. "You're lucky I keep my phone on," Regina remarked aloofly, flicking on the porch light. "Force of habit."

The ex-Mayor headed back into the warm house as Emma peeled herself unsteadily off the porch and teetered behind. "But luck has a way of finding your family, doesn't it?" Regina pointed to the study, "Have a seat." She paused with a dirty chuckle, "Want a drink?"

The Sheriff turned and slowly shook her head, looking like she may vomit at the mere suggestion.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Regina smirked. "All right, Miss Swan. It's late. Say your peace." The brunette took in the sight across from her. Emma was slumped on the love seat, legs akimbo. Her hair was flattened at the crown, surely the remnants of wearing a wig for several hours. The rest of her long blonde curls hung limp and straight, stringy and matted here and there by some unknown, wet substance.

Her white Oxford shirt was stained in patches and untucked from the pencil skirt in the back, the tan pantyhose ripped or running in several spots, exposing patches of pale flesh.

Regina held up her hand to halt Emma and sighed in disgust.

"Wait. For the love of all that is pure, if you're to imitate me, at least sit like a lady."

Emma attempted to shift and cross her legs, but her skirt was too tight and she was too drunk. Regina grunted impatiently. "Hold on." With a wave of her hand, Emma was returned to her normal wardrobe: jeans, long-sleeve grey Henley and boots.

"That's better," Regina assessed. "I never thought I would say that about your wardrobe, but what do you know? Now, continue."

Warm and somewhat back in her element, Emma began.

"I am so sorry," she rasped sheepishly. "Everything you said was right. I was completely wrong. I think what I feel most bad about is that we were becoming…friends." The word didn't feel right in Emma's mouth, Regina could tell by the why the blonde screwed up her face, but she understood the meaning, anyway.

A short lull blanketed the room as Emma considered her next words. "I want you to know one thing. I chose the costume because I thought it would be funny and people would get a kick out of it. I didn't do it to mock you. I didn't do it to hurt you. I don't…I don't want to hurt you."

"But don't you see?" Regina asked quietly. "It did hurt me, regardless of whether I was there."

The former Evil Queen watched the woman as she considered the statement. Remorse rolled off the blonde in waves. She looked so dejected, defeated and guilt-stricken Regina realized she felt bad for Emma. _Why do I feel bad for her? Damn those Charmings, how do they continue to elicit such sympathy, even when they are at fault?_

"Do you know what amazes me? That these people are constantly shocked at how I continue to be 'evil' Yet they are continually cold to me, mock me and shun me from their gatherings. Wouldn't you be 'evil' too?"

The statement sobered Emma a touch and she pulled back her head, trying to process it. There was a question on her face, but Regina realized the blonde was too impaired to put it into words.

"Has anyone ever thought…" Regina started, musing out loud. She was unconcerned with Emma's presence, believing the woman was so out-of-her mind drunk she would never remember her words, anyway.

"What? Tell me, please."

"Has anyone ever thought that I never wanted this? To be queen? To be 'evil'?" the brunette spit out the last word with disgust. "Has anyone ever thought that instead of being queen, I was simply a pawn?"

Regina shifted on the couch as Emma leaned forward enthralled by the woman's words, which were suddenly being uttered in the softest of voices.

"You met my mother. You saw my roots. I take responsibility for my actions, of course, but does no one consider how my life would have developed in a different…environment?"

The brunette slowly shook her head with a small smile. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're blind drunk. You'll remember little, if anything. Maybe that's a good thing."

"I may be blind…" Emma searched for the word to complete the phrase, despite the fact she heard it three seconds earlier, "...drunk, but I can hear," she mumbled. "Go on."

"As a child, I wasn't allowed to play with the children in the village or the castle. I was always surrounded by adults, no one my own age. I had no friends. I always thought it was me, that it was my fault, but as I look back on it now I'm sure it was the fact that everyone was intimidated by my mother. She kept a tight rein on me as I grew, and after I married, as queen I was surrounded by sycophants and spies. I never knew if anyone liked me for me. There was only one person…" Regina trailed off in the memory.

"Who was it?"

"Cook," she replied wistfully. Emma watched fascinated as Regina's eyes softened and a tiny grin graced her face. She had never seen the woman sport such a genuine expression.

"I went down to the kitchens one day to berate the staff. The milk they provided for a formal tea was sour, and I was so enraged and embarrassed, I stormed down there ready to banish someone into the forest."

_"Where is Cook?" the Queen bellowed as she sailed into the kitchen, her silk gown rustling along the stone floor. The thought of lowering herself to actually enter the kitchen was abhorrent, only enraging her more, but the steward could not be located and someone had to pay – now – for ruining her tea. The steward would pay later. The assembled staff - pantlers, scullery-maids, butchers, larderers, bakers and bulters - quickly bowed, curtseyed and bolted out the backdoor, half-petrified, half-shocked. Royalty in the kitchen – not to mention the Queen – was unprecedented._

_But one person remained: a short, stout grandmotherly type who wiped her hands on her apron and calmly walked across the room._

_"Your Majesty," she said, dipping into a shallow curtsey. "How may I help you?"_

_"You will tell me who sabotaged my tea with sour milk," she seethed, spitting out the words like bullets._

_Regina was convinced the staff hated her, like so many in the land constantly comparing her to the former queen. The deceased royal was so beloved Regina figured she probably gave everyone on her staff unicorns and let them address her as "Ava."_

_"I have no idea, Ma'am, let me check it." Cook walked along the counters and tables until she found the milk jug and dropped her nose for a whiff._

_"Oh, gods! That's terrible!"_

_Cook walked backward with the jug – one never turns one's back on royalty – and moved it to the rear entrance, far away from the Queen._

_"Your Majesty, I am very sorry. Fresh milk was delivered this morning. Someone must have mixed up the jugs."_

_"Someone will pay for this!" Regina demanded. "Who?"_

_Cook instantly had a plan and mentally considered it in milliseconds. It was risky, for sure. At best she could lose her job. At worst, her life. Why not? she figured. She hadn't grown to the ripe old age of 52 without by playing it safe. Or clean living, that's for sure._

_Even though she rarely saw the Queen, Cook knew of her background, specifically, her mother. The white-haired woman never turned down an opportunity to gossip with her peers in other households and villages; it was a small land and word traveled fast. Cora's cruelty and reputation preceded her daughter's arrival. And even though the girl was livid and doing the best to intimidate and frighten, Cook knew the Queen's heart was not in it. She could tell the woman – no more than a child, to be honest - was a product of her ambitious, hateful mother._

_She has kind eyes, Cook thought. Here goes nothing._

_"Your Grace, will you stir the sauce?"_

_Regina gaped in shock, had the question not been so potentially lethal, Cook would have found her reaction quite funny._

_"Excuse me?"_

_Cook busied herself with meat at the hearth, basting and turning it on the spit._

_"I beg pardon, your Majesty, but I seem to have lost my saucier. And the rest of the staff," she noted pointedly. "The King has requested his favorite roast tonight. If the sauce burns I can't salvage it, and I would hate to deny the King."_

_"Very well," Regina huffed, a mixture of shock and anger. She knew better than most that one does not deny the King. "What do I do?"_

"For months I made excuses to visit the kitchen. I always had a complaint at the ready to justify the trip. Even after the King…died."

Regina pensively looked off to an indeterminate point in the distance. "That's how I learned to cook and bake. From her. I'd banish everyone from the kitchen so it was just me and Cook." The brunette chuckled. "No one could figure out how Cook kept her head."

"Did Cook come over with the curse?"

"No. She died shortly before. In her bed." Regina smirked at the memory. "With a footman half her age."

"Go Cook!" Emma giggled. "What was her name?"

"I never asked. I never _thought_ to ask." She snickered solemnly. "How horrible is that?"

"It's horrible you were raised like that," Emma corrected.

The grandfather clock broke an awkward silence with two bells.

"Ah, Jesus. I gotta go."

Emma rose to make her way to the door, only to weave shakily when she reached her full height. "Whoa…"

Regina darted forward instinctively and steadied her by the forearm.

"How are you proposing to get home?"

"Archie said to call and he'd pick me up."

A brief flash of irritation surfaced. _The Charmings continue to inconvenience the masses even when they're at fault. Unbelievable._

Regina bit back her instinctive reaction and paused for a moment, seemingly unsure of her next move.

"It's very late, no doubt Dr. Hopper is in bed. It would be...unfortunate to inconvenience him. Why don't you stay in the guest bedroom?"

Emma wondered if the punch had already rotted her synapses to the point in which she had lost any and all comprehension.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Regina looked slightly shocked at the question, unsure of the answer herself.

"It's late. You're here. I have a spare bedroom."

Emma nodded, satisfied with the explanation. "OK."

As the women headed for the wide staircase, Emma swayed into Regina, who grabbed the blonde's shoulders to steady her. She smelled liquor on the woman's breath, the particular scent immediately taking her back to another time, another land; one she previously associated with leather, sweat and body odor.

Regina kept her hand at the small of Emma's back as they climbed the stairs, the Sheriff with a firm grip on the railing. "What exactly were you drinking, anyway?"

"Dutchman." Just saying the word made her want to hurl.

Regina's eyes widened in horror. "Good gods, you're lucky you're not dead. I used to smell that repulsive punch on my guards from time to time. I used to have them flogged for it. You're lucky we're not back in the old land."

"No kidding. In more ways than one."

Regina guided Emma to the guest bedroom and opened the door, signaling her to enter. The Savior carefully walked in, sat on the bed and removed her boots. When she looked up, she found Regina standing in front of her with a glass of water.

"Here," she directed, handing Emma the glass and opening her other hand, two pills in her palm. "Aspirin," she noted, answering the question before the blonde could ask.

"Ah." Emma gently took the pills from Regina's hand, popped them in her mouth and chased them with half a glass of water. "Thank you."

"Good night, Miss Swan." Regina turned and walked toward the door.

"Regina, wait. Would you do me a favor?"

Regina's face was the picture of exasperation as she turned and stood in the doorway. "Are you mad? Do you want me to fluff your pillow? Tuck you in?"

"No, no. Although I wouldn't say no to the tucking in," Emma noted with a grin. "I meant, do me a favor and let me do something nice for you tomorrow, to start to make up for tonight. Let me make you dinner or something."

"You can't cook."

"You don't know that."

"That's what Henry says."

"He doesn't know everything."

"He lives with you. You fed him frozen waffles for dinner last night."

"Ugh, that narc. OK, well, I know people who can cook and they can help me. Please, let me do this…for you."

"Fine, you won't even remember this, anyway, so yes, I will have dinner with you tomorrow. Are you satisfied?"

"Yes, thank you."

Regina turned to leave, only to stop once more. "Wait, who is expecting you to call for a ride?"

"I guess Archie. Or my moth— Mary Margaret."

"Text you _mother_ , Miss Swan. If you don't, they'll be here with pitchforks and torches before dawn thinking I filleted you otherwise."

"Will do. Thanks, Regina. Really."

Emma dashed off a quick text to her mother, then gently lowered herself onto the surprisingly soft bed. _I wonder if anyone's ever slept here._

All the muscles in Emma's body seemed to melt into the mattress as she began to fall asleep, her brain simultaneously burning off and buzzing from the alcohol and the events of the evening.

Two doors down, the former Evil Queen fell into slumber hoping the blonde would forget her favor request, while the Savior passed out praying she would remember.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the story really begins to diverge from canon. Going forth, everything post Queen of Hearts never happens.

Emma lay splayed across the bed, face down like a corpse at a crime scene, when her phone rang, splitting the silence. She pushed her torso off the bed to find it and - more importantly, shut it off – but her brain was first concerned trying to answer one question: _Where am I?_

Eyes squinting and head pounding, it took her a few seconds to get her bearings. It obviously wasn't her room, the sheets were too nice and there were no clothes or empty glasses on the floor. She looked to her left and spied water, a bottle of aspirin and a note. The phone had mercifully silenced itself as she grabbed the paper and began to read.

_Miss Swan,_

_I took Henry to his soccer game, I will drop him off at your apartment when it is over. Lock the door behind you when you leave. If you're still here when I return, I will kick you out myself._

_Regina_

Awareness washed over her brain like a wave on shore. All the events of the previous evening rushed back in full. _God, that was such a bad idea._

Emma read the note again and chuckled. _She's kidding, right?_ The woman was still trying to determine Regina's mood from the note when the blasted cell phone rang again.

 _What the fuck?_ Emma scanned the nightstand, only to realize the ringing was coming from within the bed sheets. Flipping them up, she rooted around until she felt a vibration and grabbed the device.

"Whaaaaat?" she groaned.

"Emma. Hi, honey."

The blonde pulled the phone away to glance at the time, 9:10 am, and scooted toward the nightstand.

"Hey," she rumbled, shaking three pills out of the bottle, swallowing them and following with the water.

"What's that noise?"

Emma paused until she finished the glass.

"Aspirin."

"Ah, so why are you still at Regina's? Are you chained up?" Snow giggled nervously.

"Yes, I'm here in the dungeon. Regina was nice enough to chain me to a bed with high-thread-count sheets and leave me aspirin, water and my phone so, you know, I could play Angry Birds until you came to rescue me."

Emma lay back down on the bed, eyes closed, the sarcastic reply having exhausted her brief spark of energy.

"How do you know I'm here, anyway?"

"Your text," Snow replied timidly.

"I didn't text I was at Regina's." Emma removed the phone from her ear and opened her eyes, putting the call on speaker and checking her texts.

"I texted you: 'Crashing at a friend's. I'm fine. Talk to you tomorrow.' How'd you get Regina's out of that?"

Snow bit her lip; she didn't want to divulge that Ruby put the tracking app on her phone. She hated lying – especially to her daughter. _But this is more of an omission_ , she justified.

"Well, all of your friends were at the party last night and we left you at Regina's." She deftly shifted gears, trying to draw Emma's attention in another direction. "Since when is she your friend?"

Emma blew out an exasperated breath. I feel like death warmed over and she's giving me shit about Regina, again.

"If I told you I was staying at Regina's, you'd lose your mind and come charging up here to cause trouble."

"Concern about your welfare is hardly trouble, Emma," Snow huffed.

"Listen, _Mom_. What I did last night was terrible. After she yelled at me, I apologized, we had a good talk and Regina nicely asked if I wanted to stay. She didn't want me to wake you or Archie up for a ride. She was doing it to be nice to me _and you_. And that's on top of, you know, _saving our lives_. Stop thinking she's going to kill me or you or David or anyone. She's changed. She's trying to be a better person for Henry and I think it's working. I'm the one who fucked this all up."

"But I—"

"No. Let's end it there. My head is killing me and all this talking doesn't help."

"Fine. When are you coming home?"

"Soon. Let me get up and, like, functioning. I have to run a few errands and then I'll be back. Henry's at the soccer game with Regina, she'll drop him off after." A memory – a very important one - popped up. "Oh, and I need the apartment tonight."

"Why?"

_Goddammit I need my own place._

"I'll tell you when I see you. Catch you later."

Emma hung up before Snow could respond. _That conversation is going to suck. "Yeah, I need the apartment so I can have Regina over for dinner." Christ._

Emma propped herself up against the headboard. The upright position wasn't so painful anymore and the aspirin seemed to be kicking in. She opened a browser on her phone, did two minutes of research and dialed another number.

"Hey, there."

"Hey, yourself," Belle replied impishly. "Are you among the living?"

"Very funny. Can you arrange a delivery for me today? I'd come in but I don't want my business all around town."

"I'm pretty sure it already is," she noted with a laugh.

"I need 15 yellow roses sent to—"

"I think I know where they're going. Fifteen, huh? Yellow?" Emma could practically hear Belle trying to bite back a grin, her voice full of whimsy.

"Did I get that right?"

"You did, indeed."

"I don't have my wallet on me," Emma realized out loud. Or keys. Or a car. "Can I call you with my credit card later?"

"Sure. I'll deliver them myself early afternoon. The regular driver won't go there."

Emma felt a pang of guilt and sadness on Regina's behalf. "Thanks a lot. I'll call you later."

Emma hung up and swung her legs over the side of the bed to put on her boots. She stood and felt…OK. She did her best to make the bed, even though she'd bet her car Regina would be stripping it and washing the sheets the moment she returned.

She slowly, quietly walked into the upstairs hallway, realizing A) she was alone in the house, and B) she had never been up there before. She resisted the urge to poke around and get a gander at Regina and Henry's rooms. She'd already fucked up enough for one day, for all she knew Regina probably had the whole house rigged with security cameras. She didn't need to violate the brunette's trust yet again.

Emma walked down the stairs, her footfalls echoing loudly in the giant, empty house. It seemed so lonely. _Is this what it's like for Regina? Jesus._

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she headed for the study in search of paper and a pen. She grabbed both trying not to look at anything else on the desk, then left a note:

_Regina,_

_Thank you for the bed, water and aspirin. They were all very much appreciated. I'll see you at my place tonight at 7._

_Emma_

The Savior then headed out the front door – taking care to lock it, thank you very much – and headed out for the walk back to the station; she'd find David and grab a ride home. The fresh air would be good for her hangover, she figured, and it'd give her time to run through everything she had to do to get ready for tonight.

XXXX

 _This is such a bad idea,_ Regina thought as she sat in the heated leather comfort of her car outside the Sheriff's apartment.

She was due to knock on Emma's door in 5 minutes, and as much as the ex-Mayor hated to be late, so equally was she uncharacteristically nervous.

 _I don't get nerves_ , she thought, her hackles rising. _I cause them._ _Damn this woman. Even when she's trying to do something nice she aggravates me._

Yet there the former Queen sat, unable to muster the courage to unbuckle her seatbelt and exit the car. Emma Swan made her uncomfortable, uncertain and uneasy, three emotions Regina had steadily sought to avoid her entire life. She spent the whole day see-sawing between trying to figure out why Miss Swan bothered her so and trying not to think about the woman at all.

When her alarm rang at 7 a.m., Regina rolled over and instinctively started running through her day's list of to-dos: Henry's soccer game, yard work, dinner with Miss Swan.

The brunette gasped as she realized the latter, along with the fact her dinner companion was most likely sleeping it off two doors down. She cracked the door to Henry's room to reveal her son still sleeping soundly, then quietly made her way down the hall to the guest room, curious if her impromptu boarder was still alive.

Regina peeked in from the hallway, unable to resist the temptation. _Gods, she sleeps like she lives – all over the place._

She returned to her room to shower and dress, then roused Henry, who deemed himself well enough for his game at 9 a.m. As he thundered down the stairs, Regina prayed the hung-over woman would remain asleep until they left; she didn't want to have to explain the previous evening to her son. Mother and child had just started taking tiny, tentative steps to repair their relationship, she didn't want Henry thinking she cursed Emma into unconsciousness and left her to die in the guest bedroom.

Later, Regina was multitasking as usual - worrying about the impending dinner and raking leaves - when the phone in her jacket vibrated causing her to jump.

**How's 7 for dinner?**

_You remembered._

**I wasn't that drunk.**

_Yes, you were._

**OK, I was. Stop avoiding the question. Is 7 OK?**

_Yes._

**See you then. Oh, it will be just you and me. I kicked the others out for the night.**

Regina climbed the stairs to The Charmings' apartment, her heart hammering as she reached the front door and knocked. _What is wrong with me?_

The door swung open to reveal a sock-clad Emma wearing jeans, an untucked light-blue chambray shirt and a wide smile.

"Hi."

"Hello."

Emma could feel the anxiety rolling off Regina in waves. The formerly most-powerful woman across two realms was currently about as confident as a feral cat, suspicious, skittish and ready to bolt at any second.

"Are you nervous?"

"Of course not," she denied, all the while looking like she was about to throw up.

"It's OK," the blonde joked in a stage whisper. "I am, too."

Emma smiled warmly, trying to settle her dinner partner's obvious nerves. "No one else is here," she soothed, ushering the brunette through the doorway. It was a miracle considering what it took to get the others to leave.

_Snow leveled a steely gaze at her daughter: "We're coming home at 11."_

_"Yes, Mom."_

_"I want her gone by then."_

_"Don't worry," she teased with a leer. "If we're…busy I'll tie a scarf on the door."_

_Snow's eyes bulged while Emma cackled, gently pushing her across the threshold._

_"What does that mean?" Henry asked curiously as David steered him down the hallway. "Nothing," he rumbled. "C'mon."_

Regina removed her coat and Emma took it, hanging it on the wall and gesturing her guest toward the kitchen.

"It's OK, I get it. When it's usually just the two of us, you're threatening me or I'm yelling at you. But we won't have that tonight, right?"

Emma grinned, eyes bright. It was so damn infectious; Regina couldn't help up offer up a small smile in return.

"We will not," she confirmed.

"Good. Now, I hope you're hungry."

Regina sat at the kitchen island, while Emma walked to the other side, put on an apron and started cutting up fruit.

"Something smells good," Regina noted with surprise.

"Remember how you accused me of being unable to cook?"

"I would classify it as more of a statement of fact, but, yes."

"Well, I'm not super-skilled at cooking dinner, but I am an excellent breakfast chef."

Regina looked disgusted. "Please tell me you're not making pancakes."

"Even with chocolate chips?" Emma's face had collapsed into a sorrowful pout. "I can make cool shapes and everything – bunnies, Mickey Mouse, a blob that kinda looks like a duck…"

Regina blanched slightly while Emma burst out laughing.

"Kidding. I'm making a frittata."

"A what?"

"It's basically an omelet for people who can't fold an omelet without fucking it up. Like an omelet you bake. You'll like it, it's good – filled with veggies and cheese and all that other wholesome jazz you love."

"I look forward to it."

"You should, it's excellent. And I have croissants, I bought those off Granny. And fruit."

"I'm impressed," Regina conceded.

"And, hey, what about this?" Emma waved her hands up and down her torso, proudly displaying her apron, which read: Teachers Do It With Class.

"Nice sentiment, although I can't vouch for its validity."

Emma laughed. "I got it for my moth— Mary Margaret last year. She didn't like it then and I think she likes it less now."

"Now that she's your—"

"Yeah."

Silence enveloped the room as Emma went to the refrigerator and returned with a carton of orange juice and a bottle of champagne. Regina watched with a keen eye as Emma loosened the wire cage on the neck of the bottle, held a towel over the cork and gently pried it loose until a resounding pop rang out throughout the kitchen. The blonde produced two flutes and poured both liquids into each, handing one to Regina, a question evident on her lips.

"Mimosa," Emma explained. "I used to tend bar here and there. This isn't a wine meal."

Regina took a small sip and smiled. "Very nice. So, how has the curse breaking change your relationship with Snow?"

"Jeez, dive right in, won't you?" Emma chuckled with a touch of remorse, her attention returned to the melon on the cutting board.

"It'd be easier to explain how it didn't. Everything changed and yet nothing did – does that make sense?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders. "It's weird because we're the same age. We were friends and talked about stuff on a whole other level than I would talk to my mother. And she can't, you know, _unhear_ stuff."

The kitchen timer interrupted Emma's explanation with a persistent buzz. She took the frittata out of the oven, blowing an errant strand of hair out of her face while she placed the hot pan on a trivet.

"She feels guilty for not being with me, sometimes I feel angry at her for not being there. We have a lot to work through." Emma stopped her flurry of movement and looked thoughtful as she inserted a knife into the center of the pan. "We should probably go see Archie." She turned toward Regina and smirked. "Maybe we could get a family discount."

Regina chortled as she took another sip of her drink. "It's all my fault," she acknowledged somberly.

"Technically, yes," Emma noted in a tone very light considering the subject at hand. "But I don't blame you."

"You're the only one in town."

"That just means I'm the smartest one in town," she declared. "But, seriously, you don't know that. I doubt everyone hates you."

"I doubt you're right."

"What about Archie?"

"He may be another exception," she acknowledged.

"Listen, if this hadn't all gone down, I never would have had Henry and you never would have had Henry. In the end, that's how I handle it mentally."

Regina looked stunned at the woman's acceptance of the events. She doubted she herself would be so forgiving if the situation were reversed.

"OK," Emma announced proudly, "let's eat."

The pair moved to the dining room and lighter topics of conversation at the table. They had made their way through the frittata, croissants and fruit – and a few flutes' worth of mimosas - when Regina suddenly found her dinner companion uncharacteristically serious and pensive, so much so she asked, concerned, "What's wrong?"

"I think Henry should move back in with you."

"What?" Regina was shocked. "Is this because…is this some sort of reparation for last night?" Shock abandoned, the brunette moved immediately onto anger. "I will not allow my son to be a pawn in—"

"Whoa, whoa!" Emma jumped in loudly before Regina could get too wound up. "Absolutely not. Listen I know you don't think much of me, but I would never treat Henry like that. I've given this a lot of thought since I got back from the forest and Henry needs to be with you."

"I don't think that." Regina's voice was small and quiet.

"Think what?"

"You said, 'I know you don't think much of me' and that intimates I deem you unimportant or untrustworthy. Although we've had our differences," Regina snickered at the understatement, "I know you would never endanger Henry or use him in any way for your gain. Continue."

Emma sat stunned at the roundabout apology. She exhaled deeply and pressed on. "Thanks. Just so you know, I was planning to ask you to dinner next week to talk about this before, you know…last night."

Regina smirked, recalling Emma's pathetic state.

"So, first off, this place is way too small for three adults and a child. Mary Margaret, David and I are all adjusting to our new lives, or pasts, or whatever. It may get weird and I don't want him to see that. And I may be new to parenting, but even I know kids need structure and routine, and your house is the best place for that."

Regina leaned forward, enthralled, as Emma finished off her glass.

"And, last, Henry needs to realize the world – especially our world – is not all black and white, good guys and bad guys. He needs to see you for what you are – a loving mother and woman who's trying to be the best person she could be. The best way to do that is to live with you so it will be drilled into this thick skull."

Regina's throat was tight with emotion; she tried to swallow but was having a hard time. "He is not a dullard."

"Of course not, but he's an 11-year-old boy and they're know-it-all idiots. Plus, Mary Margaret and David are fawning all over him, I don't want him to become spoiled or think he's a prince."

"But he is."

"You know what I mean."

Regina nodded. "There's one problem, my son hates me."

"He does not. I think that's his way of trying to be an adult…to be like his grandparents." Emma added in a mocking tone, "Strong and brave."

"He thinks you're strong and brave, as well," Regina noted.

"Please. I'm an ex-con. I shouldn't even be allowed to be a meter maid, let alone sheriff."

Emma refilled her glass and moved the bottle toward Regina, who nodded. "How did it go with him last night?"

"Actually, quite well. I made his favorite meal, he caught me up on school and we watched his favorite movie. We didn't argue and I didn't get any attitude." Regina paused, her throat tightening once again. "He even called me 'Mom'."

"See, I told you, he's coming around. Listen, I'm not running away or anything. I still want to see him every day and have him sleep over, it's just. I think that's what's best for him." And you, Emma left unsaid. "There's one other reason. If Henry lives with you, like it used to be, people might get off your back and start treating you a little better."

Regina took immediate offense. "Oh, so if you deem it safe for me to raise my own son, then it's alright for everyone to like me? I don't need anyone else, Miss Swan, and I don't need your help to rehabilitate my image."

 _Well, shit, that didn't go well,_ Emma mused.

"I agree, but all the other dopes in this town need to see you for what you are now, not what you were then."

"They have every right to despise me, I ruined their lives."

"Not everyone," Emma countered defensively. "And Henry's not the only one in this town who needs a little lesson on how there's no such thing as black and white."

"I'd be careful running around thinking you know what's best for the town…or me," Regina advised, her tone softening.

"I didn't mean it like that, it came out all wrong. I just…I just think you deserve a fresh start like everyone else. So, what do you think?"

Regina nearly laughed. Everything she wanted was being handed to her without any apparent ulterior motive. _That's never happened to me before in my life._

Regina smiled. "I agree. Thank you."

Emma raised her champagne flute and Regina followed suit, a tiny tink sounding out as they toasted their arrangement and touched glasses.

Heavy subjects out of the way, Emma was desperate to lighten the mood. She somewhat remembered Regina's warm smile the previous evening when she talked about Cook, so she decided to find a topic she knew would make Regina happy and set her back in her comfort zone.

But before she could direct the conversation, Regina did it for her. "I want to thank you for the flowers. They're lovely," she whispered bashfully.

"It was the least I could do," Emma replied, surprised at this timid side of the former Evil Queen.

"I admit I was surprised there were 15. I assumed Mr. French was an idiot who couldn't count." Emma interrupted with a giggle at that uniquely Regina assumption. "But then I looked it up online. I forgive you."

Emma smiled warmly. "I appreciate that. Thank you." She took a sip of her drink and set off to make Regina feel a little more comfortable. "So, I know how you learned how to cook. How did you become such a good gardener? I don't have the knack for it."

Regina finished her drink and placed the glass on the table, a large smile gracing her face.

"That's an interesting story. So, one day…"


	4. Chapter 4

Emma walked from her cruiser to the soccer field musing over the events of the past few weeks. In two years she had gone from lonely, big-city, single orphan to beloved member of a small town insta-family, albeit a decidedly non-traditional one; the latter proceeding rapidly since her return from the Enchanted Forest.

Ever since their dinner, Regina and Emma had quickly reached a solid, non-confrontational, almost-effortless working relationship when it came to raising and sharing their son. Considering their brief history, it was a stunning reversal; and while Regina was still overly formal – and Emma still determinedly casual – it worked.

Henry had agreed to the new living arrangements far more easily than either mother expected. Snow, as anticipated, complained to her daughter. Loudly.

_"Don't trust her, Emma," Snow warned._

_"Duly noted, but I do. And, no offense, you don't get a vote."_

Emma's life was so domestic and seemingly everyday, she now found herself a walking cliché, a soccer mom heading to the field to catch her kid's game after work. The November sun was setting fast in the late afternoon and the field's floodlights were already lit, illuminating the pitch. Parents littered the sidelines sitting or standing in small groups, talking and watching the action. Save for one spectator, sitting all alone, a fact that caused Emma's heart to tighten painfully.

On the edge of the east sideline, removed by the proverbial 10-foot-pole, sat Regina, somehow posture perfect, even in a folding camp chair. Clad in a long winter coat, she was rubbing her gloved hands together for warmth and watching the game so intently she didn't hear Emma's approach, startling when the latter spoke. "This seat taken?"

"Gods, you scared me."

"Sorry, wasn't meaning to," Emma apologized, setting down her chair and handing over a coffee. "You look like you could use this."

Regina gently pried the lid open and noticed it was made exactly the way she liked.

"Thank you," she said gratefully with a warm smile.

"Hey, I notice things." Emma winked as she took a sip of her own and sat down. "How's he doing?"

"Very well. He seems to be better on defense than offense."

Emma nodded in agreement, impressed with Regina's observation given that up until very recently, the woman had no idea how the game was played.

_Emma and Henry were kicking around a ball in the backyard when Regina emerged from the house, ready to call them to dinner. Emma stood in between two lawn chairs set several yards apart, her gardening-gloved hands held up ready to defend her "net."_

_"C'mon, punk. Do your worst," she challenged with a sneer._

_Henry laughed at her bluster. "Remember, you asked for it."_

_Unnoticed, Regina watched the scene unfold in the fading light. A smile crept unbidden onto her face._

_"Here it comes."_

_"You're a lot of talk. Are you trying to put me to sleep and then kick the ball over my body while I nap?"_

_Henry took a few steps back, then wound up and launched a rocket right into Emma's abdomen. The ball landed with a resounding thud, yet the blonde held on as she collapsed to the ground._

_"EMMA!" Henry yelled, panic in his voice as he ran toward his mother. Regina was right behind him, stomach tight with worry._

_Henry had just reached the woman, who was lying face down, when she rolled over and with a laugh grabbed his hand and pulled him to the ground. Regina stood over the two still scanning the blonde for injury when she felt Emma reach for her hand and yank her down, too._

_"Miss Swan!" Regina protested weakly._

_The mothers and son laid on the frozen earth, two laughing and one trying to pretend to be offended._

_"Are you alright?"_

_Emma turned her head to find Regina's a breath away. "I'm fine, just trying to wrestle the cockiness out of this one."_

_"And who's going to beat it out of you?" Regina asked, raising an eyebrow._

_Emma broke into a shit-eating grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?"_

The wind whipped up, breaking Emma out of her reverie and reminding her of the blanket she had stashed in her backpack. She pulled it out and spread it over her lap and Regina's.

The brunette gasped, feigning horror, free hand at her chest. "Miss Swan…"

"What?"

"People will talk," she noted, amused.

"About what? Seriously, what more can they say? The whole town saw me imitate you and fall off a bar. I don't think it could get much worse. Plus, I'm cold. Fuck them, they can get their own blanket."

Regina unleashed a dirty chuckle that made Emma's breath hitch in her throat.

"You don't like how people perceive you. You don't think it's fair."

"You're putting words in my mouth," the brunette replied smoothly.

"You like how they treat you?"

Regina only had to go back less than an hour earlier when she set up her seat near a group, only to have them all silently pick up their chairs and move away. "No, I don't."

"So let them see us together. We're friends. It would be the one good thing I could use this stupid title for."

"Sheriff?" Regina snorted. "You're going to arrest them? For what, hurting my feelings?"

"No," Emma replied quietly, "the other one."

Regina thought for a second, then softly drew in a short breath when she realized what Emma meant. "You're here to save me?" she asked, her voice dropping into a whisper.

Emma turned and looked straight into biggest brown eyes she had ever seen. "Maybe I am."

XXXX

Emma was finishing up a stack of paperwork when she heard the telltale click of heels echoing down the hallway.

"Afternoon, Regina," she called out, long before the woman crossed the threshold.

Her former boss waltzed in, a question on her lips. "How did you know it was me?"

"The clickety-clack of your Louboutins," Emma answered brightly, still head-down in paperwork. "And your perfume, it smells…" The blonde looked up, got a good look at her visitor and suddenly lost the power of speech. Regina was wearing a long-sleeved maroon dress that hugged her like a second skin, revealing an ample amount of cleavage for the daytime and ending just above her knees. Her hair was flawless, as usual, and her makeup was smoky. "…like you. It smells like you. Wow, you look…where are you going?"

Regina was slightly confused given she was at her destination. "What do you mean? I was coming here."

"Well, you look fantastic. You sure class up this joint."

Regina felt her face get hot as a small blush raced across her cheeks. "It's not hard to do."

"You make it look easy."

"Thank you. I just wanted to look nice today," she demurred.

"Mission accomplished." Emma leaned back and crossed her legs up on the desk. "What can I do for you today, fair citizen?"

Regina opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Now it was her turn to go mute. In her mind, inviting Emma to Thanksgiving dinner was much easier. She asked, Emma said yes, and that was that. But the reality of the situation was much different. The Sheriff sat behind her desk gazing at her adoringly, a big, cute, stupid smile plastered on her face. Emma was looking at her so intently, so sincerely, it was hard to proceed.

"I wanted to invite you to join Henry and me for Thanksgiving dinner."

The wattage of Emma's smile ratcheted up several thousand kilowatts. She dropped her feet from the desk and planted them on the floor. "I would love that."

"Excellent. We'll see you at noon?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "Are you still picking him up today or do you need me to?"

"No, I'll get him."

"OK." Regina turned to leave but stopped when Emma sputtered out a panicked, "Oh, hey!"

The brunette looked at her expectantly, but Emma didn't continue, that dress was still distracting her and stopping her neurons from firing correctly. "Do you need me to bring anything?" From the look on her face, Regina wasn't following her train of thought. "For Thanksgiving?"

Emma did the math in her head. Thanksgiving was a week from tomorrow. _If she says yes, I have a week to learn how to cook something._

"Oh, no. Don't bother I love to cook."

Emma grinned. "And I love to eat."

"Well," Regina noted as she strolled out, "we're a match made in Heaven, aren't we?"

XXXX

Emma floated into her apartment, clearly still riding the high of her afternoon visitor.

"Someone's in a good mood," Snow observed as Emma walked in and plopped on the couch. "What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," Emma lied casually. "Just a good day. A few easy calls."

She didn't enjoy lying to Snow but Regina was still an extremely touchy topic between mother and daughter. Whenever the woman dropped Henry off at the apartment, she stayed in the car, and Henry and Emma went out of their way to not mention her name in front of Snow, a tacit understanding it would be in everyone's best interest.

"Hey, I was thinking about Thanksgiving," Snow mentioned, bustling around the kitchen prepping dinner. "I wanted to have it here, but when I figured out how many people I wanted to invite, and I realized they wouldn't all fit. What do you think about having it at Granny's?"

Emma blanched and her eyes widened as she saw the oncoming train. She went from never having any Thanksgiving plans to being the hottest Turkey Day guest in town.

"What's wrong? You don't have to work. I checked with your father, Leroy is on call."

"It's not that. I, uh, already have plans."

Snow turned and stared at Emma, already guessing the answer, but asking the question anyway. "With _who?_ "

Emma's nerves were on edge and a chill raced up her spine. She truly hated confrontation, the aftermath of years of brawling foster parents. "Regina invited me and Henry," she rambled sheepishly. "Well, Henry was already going to be with her, so just me."

"No, oh, no. No. _No!_ This has gone too far, Emma," Snow thundered. "I know you're trying to be nice to her and let Henry spend time with her but he is your son. He is _our_ family. This is our first Thanksgiving as a family!"

Rage boiled in Emma's chest as her face flushed and her eyes narrowed in anger.

"Henry is _Regina's_ son. Mine, biologically, but he is Regina's. Why don't people get that? I can't stand the way you people treat her."

Snow's cherubic face turned beat red as her voice erupted into a roar. "You people? You mean the people she cursed from their homeland? The people whose memories she erased? The people whose lives she stole? _Those_ people?"

Plates and utensils were slammed and banged, taking the brunt of Snow's rage as she angrily set the table. "I don't know what she's doing to you, Emma, but this has got to stop."

"She's not doing anything." Emma stood and walked toward her mother. "Why do you always assume she's up to something?"

_"Because she's always up to something!"_ Snow fumed. "Read the damn book. Ask anyone in this town. How can you be so naïve?"

"You're wrong, Mary Margaret," Emma barked, her voice pure steel. "You're wrong."

Snow couldn't hold back her tears of frustration and disappointment. After nearly three decades and two realms Regina was still charging after everything Snow loved.

"Can't you at least call me Mom? Maybe once in a while?"

Emma groaned in frustration, grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. "I'm outta here."

XXXX

Emma hopped in the Bug and was headed out of town for a breather and dinner when The Imperial March rang out from her phone. Regina, she smiled. A millisecond later she felt guilty and realized she needed to change that ringtone. What was once funny she now recognized as hurtful.

"Hey, what's up?"

The smile left Emma's face the minute she heard Regina seething on the other end of the call.

"You signed Henry up for football?"

"Yeah?" she confirmed, confused over the woman's obvious anger.

"Football? Are you insane?"

_Ah,_ Emma thought with a laugh. _I get it._ "It's _flag_ football. They barely get touched. No tackling. He asked. I signed the permission slip. Everything's fine."

"Everything is _not_ fine." Regina took off like a rocket – her voice all fire and acceleration. "He could get hurt. You should have asked me first. I am his legal parent. Yet everyone ignores that, as usual. _I'm_ his emergency contact, _I'm_ listed as his parent on every single form yet everyone defers to _you_. Everyone calls _you_."

Regina paused to take a breath. "He is _my son_!" she hissed.

Emma was so stunned and angered by the verbal assault she pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park.

She rubbed her hand over her face, incredulous she was being yelled at – again – in less than an hour. _Is it a full moon?_ Emma pinched the bridge of her nose at her impending headache and exhaled heavily, trying to think before she spoke.

"I can't believe you pulled that card. Again. Henry _is_ your son - I defend that to everyone. I defend _you_ to everyone. I believe it. I support it. Of course you're his mother. You're getting upset over nothing. Calm down and we—"

"You don't tell me what to feel, Savior," Regina snapped bitterly. "You don't tell me what to do. Or what my son can do. Do you understand?"

Before Emma could answer, Regina hung up.

The Leaving Storybrooke sign beckoned in the distance. _Yes, please and thank you_ , Emma thought as she laid her head on the steering wheel. _Get me the fuck out of here._

XXXX

After dinner two towns over, Emma returned to the place Maine never knew existed and wondered where she was going to sleep. She could go to Granny's, but she didn't feel like answering questions as to why she needed a room. Plus, the first call Granny would make would be to her parents. She didn't want to talk anymore tonight.

She could stay with Ruby, but the waitress' inquisitive nature would mean more talking and her loose lips meant that her business would be all over town by breakfast. She could go to Regina's— _ah, shit, scratch that_. That left only one option.

It was just after 10 p.m. when Emma walked into the station to find Leroy engrossed in his phone.

"There better not be porn on there," she warned jokingly. "At least not on town time."

"Ha, ha," he deadpanned, turning around the screen. "Angry Birds."

"How appropriate."

"What're you doing here?"

Emma sat down at the other desk and started opening drawers. "Gonna keep you company. Crashing here tonight. I hope you don't have to bust anyone, I need that bed."

Shutting the last drawer, Emma stared at Leroy. "Alright, where are you hiding it?"

"What?"

"The booze, I know you have some here."

"I don't drink on duty," he replied defensively.

"I know."

"Then why do you want to confiscate it?"

"I don't want to throw it out, I want to drink it. Hand it over."

The deputy walked over to a file cabinet across the room, opened the top drawer, pulled out a flask and tossed it to the Sheriff, who caught it one-handed.

"File under B," he joked.

Emma unearthed a bottle of Tylenol PM, grabbed two pills, chased them with a swig from the flask and grimaced.

"Shit, file that under R: rock gut."

Emma grabbed a fresh pillow and blanket out of the closet and headed for the cell.

"So what's going on, sister?"

"Eh, I don't want to get into it, but thanks for asking." She turned and held his gaze. "I appreciate the thought."

Emma reclined on the thin mattress and closed her eyes.

"Leroy?"

"Yeah?"

"Shoot anyone who tries to bother me," she instructed seriously.

"You got it."

Emma took another swig off the flask and tried to pass out to quell the gears turning in her mind. _The two most important women in my life and they're both pissed at me. Great._

Emma gasped so loud at the realization, Leroy jolted. "What?"

"Nothing, sorry. I'm OK."

The blonde finished the flask, hoping to kill any other deep-seated realizations from making themselves known. The sounds of birds yelling and structures crashing floated softly across the room as she drifted off to sleep.

XXXX

"Emma…hey, sister, wake up."

The Sheriff of Storybrooke woke up in her own cell, Leroy's grizzled face and gravelly voice hovering above her.

"Gah!" She jolted toward the wall. "What?"

"Time to get up, you have a visitor."

"I told you to shoot," she groused. _This was such a bad idea._

Emma cracked an eye and saw Leroy with this gun unholstered, muzzle pointing toward the floor. Regina was standing unamused across the room, dressed in all black: turtleneck, three-quarter-length leather jacket, dress slacks and boots. _Shit, Regina_. Memories of the previous night's phone call rushed back. And on the heels of that recollection came one more thought: _God, she looks good._

"I was going to shoot her but I knew she could crush my windpipe from across the room before I pulled the trigger."

Regina arched an eyebrow in reply.

"Jesus, put that thing away, will you?" the blonde chided.

Emma sat up and put her feet on the floor, then slowly rose, walked out of the cell and held up an index finger at her guest. She headed for her desk, grabbing two aspirin and a cup of water from the dispenser. Downing everything, the blonde took her jacket off the chair and headed for the door, Regina following without a word. "Going out, be back later."

The pair walked silently to Regina's car, which proved far more warm and comfortable than the cell. She started the engine, and Emma sank into the heated leather seat, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "What can I do for you?" she mumbled.

Regina was about to speak when Emma had another thought. "Wait." She sat up, opened her eyes and looked at the brunette. "How did you know I was here?"

"Henry put an app on my phone that tells me where you are."

"Fucking _fuck_! Do I have any privacy in this goddamn town? Jesus, I'm gonna kill Ruby."

Emma cradled her head in her hands, elbows braced on her thighs. Her exclamation rattled her overtired brain, still lagging from the effects of the makeshift sleep-aid from the night before.

"I'm sorry," Regina said softly. "I thought he had permission to do so."

Emma shook her head "No," then felt bad at the outburst. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's been a long night and I didn't get a much sleep."

"Why did you sleep at the station?"

"I got into a fight with Mary Margaret."

"After we talked?"

"You call that a talk?" Emma snorted. "No, before. Then _you_ called for Round 2."

"What was the fight about?"

Emma sighed and was about to explain when Regina reached into the back seat and handed her a plastic container.

"What's this?" she wondered out loud, feeling the warmth of the plastic on her palm.

"An apology."

Emma removed the lid and a savory aroma enveloped the car.

"You made me a frittata?" The blonde grabbed a plastic fork and took a bite. "And you made it better than me," she noted, chewing excitedly. "Not fair."

"Not so, yours was excellent. It was so good I wanted to learn how to make it myself."

"Wait," Emma's eyes opened wide with wonder. "Did you add bacon to this?"

Regina nodded.

"Ugh, I love you," Emma groaned happily. "Thanks!"

Regina hoped the woman didn't notice the blush that warmed her face as she handed over a bottle of orange juice.

Emma smirked. "Just juice, right?"

Regina returned the smile. "Just juice."

"I'm sorry I signed the flag permission slip," Emma noted remorsefully between bites. "I should have asked you; I really didn't think it was a big deal. And I don't think Henry was trying to play us or anything."

"He wasn't, I talked with him this morning. He said he asked you because he forgot to ask me and it was due yesterday. The only reason he came to me was because he needed to buy equipment."

Regina looked deep in thought, trying to grab the thread of an idea. "By the way, what's a jock?"

Emma erupted in laughter, coughing and sputtering, almost choking on her breakfast.

"I think I don't want to know," Regina admitted, watching Emma wipe tears out of her eyes.

"I'll tell you later," she chuckled, clearing her throat. "I'm glad to hear Henry wasn't trying to do an end-around on you."

Regina narrowed her eyes in confusion. "It's a football term, don't worry, I'll teach you. I mean, if you're going to let him play…"

"I am. I trust your opinion."

"Thanks."

Emma dug back into her breakfast as Regina continued.

"I'm very sorry I yelled at you," she apologized sincerely as she watched Emma eat with gusto. "I…I'm still getting used to our arrangement and I overreacted. I'm sorry. I was wrong."

"It's OK."

"It's not OK. I shouldn't be so defensive," she conceded. "It's just…I've spent my entire life with people who want things from me or want to do harm to me. I'm not used to normal rela…interactions with…friends.

"I get it, I do." Emma paused to swallow and put down her fork. "Listen, we're all figuring this out as we go along, you, me, Henry. It's a steep learning curve. And you and I, we didn't have great parenting role models when we were growing up. I had no one and you had…" Emma trailed off unsure of how to complete the sentence.

"Indeed," Regina observed, finishing for her.

"We're going to make mistakes. I'm going to end up apologizing whether or not it's my fault and you're going to keep yelling at me." Regina laughed at the accuracy of Emma's prediction. "Just don't assume I'm trying to screw you over because I'm not."

The blonde rested her hand on Regina's forearm and squeezed it gently, holding her gaze and emphasizing her point. " _I'm not._ " Regina covered Emma's hand with her own and squeezed back. "I know. Thank you."

A thick charge hung in the air as neither woman moved their hand, paralyzed by relief, happiness or an emotion neither was ready to name. Emma instinctively began to lean in as Regina broke the silence.

"What caused the fight between you and Snow?"

"Oh, right. _That_ ," Emma snickered. "Thanksgiving. She's upset that—"

"That you're spending the holiday with Henry and me," Regina concluded sadly. "I don't want to cause trouble for you, Emma, if you want to go to your parents I—"

"Wait. You called me 'Emma.'" The blonde smiled wide at the realization.

"And?"

"You've never called me Emma."

"I most certainly have," Regina protested.

"I would have remembered. Maybe you call me that in your head, but all I ever hear is 'Miss Swan.' Where's your phone?"

Confused, Regina pulled it out of her purse.

"What am I listed as in your address book?"

Regina bashfully pulled up her contact list and showed the screen to Emma.

"Swan, Miss? That's worse than Miss Swan," the blonde laughed. "Do me a favor, please call me Emma from now on. And change me in your phone, jeez."

"You and your favors," the brunette muttered, feigning annoyance while she edited the contact field.

"There," she held up the screen. "Happy?"

"Very."

"Now about Thanksgiving—," Regina started.

"I want to be with you." Emma cut in, her response immediate and firm. She watched Regina's expressive eyes widen and realized her wording. "And Henry. You and Henry"

"You're sure?"

"I am."

Emma broke the tension with a joke. "Especially if you cook like that," she noted, glancing at the empty container.

"Could I ask you one more favor?" Emma glanced at the clock on the car's dash.

"What?"

"Drop me off at Granny's," she urged. "I need to talk to _Miss Lucas_."


	5. Chapter 5

Hands full of coffee, Emma gently knocked on the door of Archie's office with the toe of her boot.

"Come in!" she heard through the door.

"Little help?"

When the door swung open, Emma extended a coffee.

"Hi. Is this time still good?

"It is."

Emma crossed the room and sat in a wingback chair. She peered over the rim of her coffee to find the kind-faced therapist watching her with genuine concern.

"So, what can I do for you?" The question was accompanied by a sense of deja vu as Snow stopped by the previous day, in a near panic at her daughter's burgeoning friendship with Regina.

_"Emma's not my patient, and even if she were I still wouldn't be able to tell you anything," he noted, trying to soothe the woman's anxious state. "But from what you've told me, I think it sounds rather healthy."_

_Snow was incredulous. "What do you mean? How is that possible? Nothing is healthy around Regina! Not my daughter and not my grandson."_

_"Well, yes, back in the old land, being around Regina was dangerous, you're right." Archie tried to placate the woman with the initial agreement; he sensed she was about to bolt if he disproved her theory immediately. "I can't get into specifics about Regina, but I can say that she's sincerely trying to be the best mother to Henry she can be. And, from what you're telling me, it sounds as if Emma is doing the same."_

_Archie gently ushered Snow into the wingback chair and continued in as comforting a tone as possible. "Emma and Regina are going to be tethered to each other through Henry for the rest of their lives." The brunette appeared ill at the obvious statement. "I know you don't like that, but it's not going to change."_

_"I just want a relationship with my daughter," she protested, veering dangerously close to a whine._

_"I know you do. But that will take time." Archie thought for a second then posed a question. "What happens if you hold a bird too tightly in your hand?"_

_Snow looked confused at the conversation's path. "It struggles."_

_"And what if you clench your hand around it?"_

_"You could hurt it…or crush it."_

_"Emma is the bird. Think of it from her perspective: Her entire life, no one has held her. And, now, here you are, gripping her tightly. Your anger over Thanksgiving – even the fact she still calls you Mary Margaret – it's crushing her. You have to give her space. She will come to you in her own time."_

_"Really? That's your advice? Let her fly, be free?" The sarcasm sounded so odd coming from that cherubic face, Archie chuckled internally at how much she sounded like Regina._

_"I know it's not the most scholarly analogy, but it's valid." The therapist leaned back in his chair. "Happy endings take time – you should know that better than most."_

"I was hoping you could help me with a hypothetical question."

"OK."

Emma paused for a few seconds, then began. "These two people I know, they share a son—"

"Emma, you know I can't—"

"This is _strictly hypothetical, Archie_ ," she noted raising her eyebrows and staring pointedly.

"Alright, if it's purely academic. Continue."

"OK, so this guy, Em…ery, he shares a child with the mother. He's trying to become friends, to have a good relationship, and just when it seems like it's working, when it seems as if they're getting along better, the mother flies off the handle."

The leather of her coat creaked as she leaned forward on the couch. "I…I mean, Emery, doesn't know what to do."

Archie brought his hands together, propping his chin on top.

"What do you mean by 'fly off the handle'?"

"She becomes mean. Distant." Emma paused and added, sadly, "Angry."

"What does Emery want?"

"To be friends with the mother, no yelling or fighting. For the kid…you know."

Archie nodded then thought for a moment, trying to decide how to make his point without violating his professional relationship with Regina.

"Does the mother have anyone else in her life? Family? Other friends?"

"No."

"So this woman is basically, aside from her child, completely alone?"

"Yeah."

"Has the mother gone through any personal trauma recently?"

Emma stared pointedly. "Uh, you could say that."

Archie tried to bite back a smirk as he removed and cleaned his glasses.

"Custodial issues and parent relationships traditionally boil down into two issues: control and trust. Would you say the mother has unusual difficulty or a complicated history in either area?"

The Sheriff barked out a short, uncontrollable laugh. "Ah, yeah. Both."

"So, in terms of trust: Has Emery violated the mother's trust recently? Upset her?" Emma flashed back to her Mayor Mills homage at the costume party and, to a lesser, accidental extent, the flag football incident.

"Spectacularly."

"Alright, so what you, um, _Emery_ needs to do is re-establish the trust between him and the mother."

"How does he do that?"

"Simply by keeping his word. If he says he will drop off the child at 6, drop him off at 6. If the mother says not to give the child candy - no candy."

Emma leaned forward, forearms on her thighs, listening intently.

"When it comes to control, if a person thinks she is losing it, she will simply hold on tighter and lash out at anyone or anything that threatens her authority. In this case, Emery should…wait…Does Emery want the mother to have authority over this child? Is she a good mother?"

"Yes!" Emma insisted defensively. "She is!"

Archie raised his hands, palms up. "No judgment here. I'm just trying to help."

"Sorry," Emma shrugged. "It's just, no one gives the mother a break, you know? Everyone thinks they know her, but they don't. She's a good mom."

"OK, so when it comes to _any_ relatively important decision in the child's behalf, Emery should consult the mother – bedtime, friends, activities, etc." Emma gulped sheepishly on the last one. "That will demonstrate that Emery respects the mother's authority, control and expertise, all things that are important to her, whether the mother can verbalize it or not.

"This won't happen overnight," Archie warned. "If…the mother…has extreme control and trust issues extending back for a long period of time," he coughed awkwardly, "it will take a while to build a solid foundation of control and trust."

"Do you think Emery could do it?"

"I do. He just has to be patient."

"Great." Emma rose from the couch with a smile. "Thanks, Archie. I mean it."

She headed for the door, only to stop and turn when she reached the handle.

"Do you think I could come see you? You know, for me? I'd like to talk some things out."

"Of course," he encouraged. "I'd be happy to. What day works best for you?"

Emma ran through her schedule in her head. "Tuesday mornings are good. How often do you think I should come?"

"Once a week should be fine," he noted, checking his appointment book. "How are Tuesdays at 10?"

Emma swallowed nervously at the reality of having an actual day and time. "Yeah, that sounds good. See you next week?"

"See you then."

Emma left the office and Archie smiled to himself, wondering if he should get a new appointment book dedicated solely to Storybrooke's First Family.

XXXX

The former Evil Queen sat in her study, enjoying the silence on a crisp, cool, Sunday. Less than two months ago, such quiet was mocking, a painful reminder of all she had lost. But since her informal custody agreement with Emma, Henry lived with her during the week and at his birth mother's on the weekends, leaving the woman two days of solitude she now welcomed.

This day she was using the time to plan Thanksgiving dinner and clean the house top to bottom. By all accounts it was already spotless, but given Emma's invitation, Regina felt the need to take another pass. Not that the blonde had exacting housekeeping standards, she thought with a chuckle. Emma would probably be fine with eating the traditional meal on paper plates and – the horror – in front of the TV.

Emma. Just the thought of the woman sent a jolt of nervous excitement through her body. And she'd been thinking about her often. They would see each other several times a week – all under the familiar "for Henry" guise. Every Wednesday Emma was expected for dinner, and every Wednesday she showed up with the wrong wine. Regina drank it just the same, touched at the blonde's effort. Lately, Emma had taken to checking in on the brunette for reasons even she couldn't remotely connect to their son.

_Regina answered the doorbell looking as if she were about to start a town meeting, although now the only thing she was about to start was a load of laundry._

_"What are you doing here?_

_"And, good afternoon to you, too." Emma held out a white paper bag. "I brought you lunch."_

_Regina raised an eyebrow. "Why?"_

_"Because I thought you might like it. And I wanted some company."_

_Emma also knew Regina loved Granny's chicken salad and was in effect banned from entering the restaurant without Henry or Emma._

_"So as usual, it's all about you," she teased. "What if I'm busy?"_

_Emma smirked._

_"Well, I could be. Come in."_

_Emma followed Regina into the kitchen, where the woman began setting out plates and glasses._

_"Why are you being nice to me?"_

_"Because it's about damn time someone is."_

_"I don't want your pity."_

_"And I'm not pitying you," she noted, exasperated. "You're my friend, is it wrong to want to eat lunch with a friend? You're the mother of my son, for Christ's sake."_

_Regina's eyes widened._

_"OK, for the record, that sounded much less weird in my head."_

_Regina chuckled and pointed toward a seat. "Sit down before you hurt yourself."_

Seemingly since birth, the fight-or-flight instinct had been strong in Regina. As a child and through nearly all of her marriage, her favorite option was flight. But, after gaining knowledge, strength and power in magic, she'd been fighting ever since. Until now. When it came to the Savior she wanted neither fight nor flight. Which left the question: What exactly did she want?

Regina was pondering the answer when she heard the loose rattle of Emma's Bug approaching. It grew in volume to teeth-chattering levels, then was abruptly silenced in front of the house.

As one car door slammed, then another, the brunette gracefully swung her legs off the settee, slipped on her heels and stood. She finished her glass of water, glanced at the mantle clock – 2:59 - then headed for the foyer.

"Mooom! I'm hoooome!"

Henry barreled through the front door as Regina crossed the threshold of the entryway. The boy shrugged the duffle bag off his shoulder, unceremoniously dropping it with a resounding thud in the middle of the room. Chastisement died on Regina's tongue as she was enveloped in a hug from the child to whom she was losing inches seemingly every day. Emma was right behind him in a sprint as the grandfather clock struck the second of three chimes.

"Are we late?" she asked, skidding to a stop. Her eyes darted around the room looking for Regina, as her breath came in short bursts.

"Right on time."

Emma nodded her head in affirmation as she regained her breath and closed the front door. As the last chime faded, she continued.

"Phew. I'm sorry we cut it so close. We got carried away making hovercrafts."

"Yeah, it was so cool!" In the minute he had been home, Henry had already hugged this mother, headed for the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and returned to sit on the staircase. "We took old CDs, balloons and water bottle caps, glued them together and made them fly."

"You could have just levitated them on your own," Regina noted, looking at Emma.

"Ha, ha. This was _scientific_. Plus, frankly, I'm scared of magic. Tell your mom what you learned, kid."

"It's all about lift, airflow and friction," Henry noted, taking a swig off the bottle. "Emma found a site with cool science projects online. They gave you instructions and also explained the theory behind everything. It was really fun."

"We lost track of time, sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, you weren't late." Since their fight over flag football the past week, Regina noticed how exceedingly considerate Emma had been when it came to Henry. She asked for Regina's opinion on bedtimes, activities, hell, even what type of toothpaste to buy Henry.

"I think it is wonderful you two are engaging in educational pursuits, especially outside school. Well done."

Henry and Emma beamed at the virtual pat on the head.

"Hey, since we're doing such a good job…" Henry looked to Emma, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah. So, I promised Henry we'd get ice cream before heading home, but we ran out of time. Any chance I could take him to The Cow? We wouldn't be out long."

Regina's response was measured, but pointed: "You shouldn't promise things you can't deliver. Now you've put me in an untenable position. If I say 'yes' he ruins his dinner. If I say 'no' I'm the bad guy. Again."

Emma's eyes softened. _God, I screwed up, again. Shit._

"But I had a really healthy lunch!" Henry interjected. "Grilled chicken and salad!"

Regina looked at mother and son, blinking in surprise.

Emma recovered, a triumphant smile on her face. "I know, right? We marinated chicken _and_ grilled it. I got one of those grill pans."

"I don't what shocks me more: That you could marinate chicken, grill it without setting yourself on fire, or make a salad," she teased. "Or that you chose chicken and salad in the first place."

"Laugh it up. It _was_ salad from a bag, but that's still salad…Hey, come with us. It's still light out. We could get a nice walk in, fresh air – all that healthy stuff you love so much. And ice cream is dairy. And dairy is very important for growing boys. And sheriffs."

Emma's face split into a grin, her eyes bright. Henry grabbed Regina's hand and gave it a gentle tug.

"Yeah, Mom. C'mon!"

Regina relented, powerless against the handholding and Emma's ridiculous argument. "Alright. Bring your bag up to your room first. I'll get my boots."

Emma smirked in victory as the pair ascended the staircase – Regina all grace and perfect posture, Henry passing her on the left and tackling the stairs like five football players diving for a loose ball.

Emma leaned against the doorway to Regina's study and reviewed the past 5 minutes. A year ago Regina's response would have been an emphatic "No", case closed, end of discussion. Hell, back then, she wouldn't have even asked in the first place, and even if she did, most likely she would have been tossed from the house.

But in the weeks since that ill-fated Halloween party, the trio's relationships had improved to a point in which had Emma not been a direct part of it, she wouldn't have believed it. Things were not perfect, for sure. There were still occasional heated discussions, but no sucker punching or homicidal tree-trimming like when she first came to town.

Any insults or taunts between the women were almost affectionate, and Emma realized that when she "won" a challenge - like she just did - Regina and Henry did, too. These days, there were no losers.

It was so nice, so normal. Her entire life, Emma yearned for a "normal" life: parents, traditions, holidays, family dinners. It's all she ever wanted, and the woman was finally starting to get it.

XXXX

_This was such a bad idea_ , Regina thought as she locked the front door and met Emma and Henry.

"What sort of ice cream stand is open in November – in Maine?" Regina mocked as the trio began the 20-minute walk in the setting sun. "I'm wearing a scarf and winter coat to eat ice cream – _outside_.".

"It's like 50-something degrees, you don't need a scarf. And, hey, you made the town."

"The town, yes, but not its inhabitants. They were fully formed."

Emma laughed. "Well, now you're just nitpicking."

The Spotted Cow stood between the park and the waterfront and was open April to Thanksgiving. If the winter was mild enough, the shop was known to open as early as St. Patrick's Day. New Englanders – even those cursed from another realm – loved their ice cream.

As they ambled through quiet neighborhood streets on the way to the harbor, Emma snuck a sideways glance. Henry walked between his two mothers, so excited by the prospect of a group outing he uncharacteristically held both their hands, repeatedly swinging each a little back and forth as he excitedly explained the earlier hovercraft adventures.

The act reminded Emma of toddlers who hold their parents' hands and beg to be swung up in the air. She silently chuckled at the thought of attempting it now: Henry was only a head shorter than both of them – and that was with Regina in her usual heels.

Still, the boy's open affection surprised her. He was 11, a time in which most start thinking about holding hands with kids their own age, not their mothers. Maybe Henry craved what Emma did: ordinary, everyday staples of family life, like a trip to the ice cream stand. She caught Regina's glance and tilted her head at Henry. The brunette smiled and shrugged, content and unwilling to question any affection.

Regina's sleek black hair gleamed in the late fall sunset, her face seemed to glow, and a small grin graced her face as she added the occasional "Yes" and "Hmmm" to Henry's never-ending monologue. Regina turned her head, caught Emma's stare and smirked, rolling her eyes at their son's non-stop commentary.

Mothers and son rounded a corner, which led onto the main road to the harbor. Henry let go of their hands. "I see my friend Mike up there. Can I go?"

Henry looked at Emma for an answer. Emma looked at Regina. The brunette nodded and the boy took off. The women continued the final 100 yards together in silence, arriving to find Henry talking to Mike, both wisely already in the surprisingly long line, waiting to order.

"What do you want?" The brunette had her purse in hand and was getting ready to order their ice cream.

"Oh, no. No, this was my idea. My treat. What would you like?"

Regina sat down – surprisingly without argument - back ramrod straight, looking as elegant as one could at a picnic table.

"A small orange sherbet in a cup."

Emma chuckled and held up her hands, palms out. "Whoaaaaa. Hold on, lady. Let's not go crazy. Seriously? Sherbet?"

"I thank you not to mock my selection." Regina feigned offense.

"Well, I'm impressed you went all crazy ordering a small and not that tiny-ass kiddie size they give babies and dogs."

"Emma! We're next!"

Emma and Henry were soon back at the table bearing their bounty: a birthday cake cone with rainbow sprinkles for Emma, a Moose Tracks cone with chocolate sprinkles for Henry and a small orange sherbet in a cup for the former queen.

"Regina, try this," Emma held out her cone. "Live a little."

"I think not."

"Oh, come on. If you're worried about cooties, I haven't touched this part." Emma turned the cone as proof.

"Try it, Mom."

One side of Regina's mouth turned up in a tiny smirk as she leaned her head toward the cone, opened her mouth and licked up the side. She closed her mouth and tried to swallow without any sprinkles landing on her scarf or coat.

Emma's delight at Regina's sampling quickly turned into unexpected arousal as she watched the woman's tongue lap up a wide swath of ice cream. When she pulled away, her lips were wet and slick with traces of yellow ice cream. A couple of rainbow sprinkles escaped, landing on the corner of her mouth.

Emma couldn't stop staring at Regina's lips or those lucky sprinkles. A jolt of electricity rocketed straight to her groin and her mouth parted slightly.

Regina lifted one eyebrow at her dumbfounded companion.

"Oh, you…uh…have some, you know, right there."

Emma pointed to the sprinkles, stopping just short of actually touching the woman's lips. Regina grabbed a napkin and did the honors.

"So, whaddaja think?"

"It's very sweet."

"I know, isn't it _great_?" Emma dove in for her next lick, making sure it was right on top of where Regina had tasted.

Ice cream finished and darkness set in, the group extricated themselves from the picnic table and tossed their trash. The temperature dropped considerably since the sun went down, and combined with the ocean breeze, a chill was in the air. Regina shivered almost imperceptibly, but Emma happened to have her eyes fixed on the brunette, whose hands were jammed in her coat pockets. Since seeing Regina's work with the cone, she couldn't seem to look anywhere else.

"Are you cold?"

"I forgot my gloves."

Emma pulled hers off and handed them over. "Take mine."

"What? No."

"Why?"

"Because you're cold and I like to share."

"I'm fine," Regina protested.

Henry had started the walk home with a friend and was out of sight when the pair turned back onto the quiet, empty neighborhood streets to make their way home. Lamps lit up the houses with a soft, warm glow breaking the dark night. Families were settling in for the end of the weekend, the late football game, due-Monday homework or dinner.

Emma felt a keen sense of longing as she boldly reached into Regina's pocket, gently took her hand, and deposited their joined hands back into her coat pocket.

Regina turned, surprise on her face. It had been so long since someone held her hand. Her fingers instinctively curled around Emma's leather ones, as she felt a thumb slowly rub across the top of her hand. Sparks of excitement, anxiety and hope raced through her chest, unbidden and uncontrollable.

"Body heat," Emma explained matter of factly. "Hey, I offered you the gloves outright…" She felt the woman's fingers, tense with surprise, slowly soften in her hidden grip.

The women walked in silence for a minute. Acorns and leaves crackled underfoot and Emma wished she wasn't wearing her gloves so she could feel the softness of Regina's hand in her own.

"You could have told him it was OK," the brunette noted serenely.

"Huh?"

"When Henry asked if he could go ahead, on the walk over. You could have given him permission."

"I know, but I wanted it to be your call."

"Why? You're his mother, too." Although hand in hand, the pair looked straight ahead as they talked. "Why do you defer to me so?"

"What do you mean?"

"You check with me on everything as of late." Regina laughed at a memory. "You asked me what type of ketchup to buy Henry."

"I wanted to make sure I got the right one."

"Emma…"

The blonde exhaled slowly as she considered her response. Her first reaction was to make a joke. The next option? Lie. The truth was always near the bottom, but maybe it was time for it to rise to the top.

"I'm trying to do this right," she faltered, "to be a good mom and not screw up your…momming."

Regina chuckled. "Mothering."

"Right. I'm not an experienced mother, you are. I gave birth to him but you brought him up. You know what's best, I'm still learning. I don't want you to feel edged out or threatened or anything. I don't want to mess up all the good stuff you've done."

"I understand."

"Do you?" Emma's question was sincere. "I've been thinking about it – a lot – and I've been alone my whole life. I've never had anyone depend on me – expect for when Henry was a fetus and all I had to do then was make sure I ate and didn't do drugs."

Regina blanched at the statement; Emma felt her jerk slightly.

"I didn't, you know, do drugs."

"Oh, of course not. I'm sure. It must have been hard, being pregnant in prison."

"It wasn't great. But it was kinda nice because I had another person with me. I'd talk to him all the time, in my head. I really missed that after he was gone."

Emma felt Regina squeeze her hand. Emma squeezed back and found the confidence to continue.

"My whole life, all I ever wanted was to belong, to have a family. I do now and I don't want to screw it up."

The pair turned onto Mifflin Street, porch lights shining in the distance.

"I'm sure there's nothing you could do to 'screw it up' with your parents," Regina snorted, the colloquialism never sounding more awkward and formal.

As the couple reached The Bug, Emma stopped. Regina followed suit about to question why when Emma reached into Regina's pocket with her free arm and extracted her other hand. Holding them both, she looked Regina in the eyes. "I don't mean them."

Emma brought both hands up to her lips and kissed them.

"I'm going to head out. Tell Henry I said goodnight," she smiled softly. "I'll talk to you later."

Emma stepped into the car, started it up and winked at the speechless brunette before rattling away. Regina stood stock still watching the taillights disappear into the turn, feeling the phantom presence of Emma's lips on her knuckles.


	6. Chapter 6

_Then love again._

Daniel's final words pealed relentlessly in her mind, as clear and loud as a church bell as Regina raked wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of dead leaves littering her backyard. It was rather late in the season for such work, but Henry always seemed to be missing or in the middle of "very important homework" when the topic arose. And her regular landscapers, well, the ex-Mayor could add them to the list of nearly everyone in town who refused to return her calls. Everyone, that is, except for Emma Swan.

The repetitive scraping of the rake's metal tines against the cold, hard ground was almost soothing, a meditative soundtrack to the subject consuming her mind: what to do about her feelings for The Savior.

Regina thought back to that day in the stables, reliving the euphoria of seeing the love of her young life standing, breathing, flesh and blood. Finally, after decades of conviction – she _would_ get Daniel back - her faith was realized. She never got what she wanted, her happy ending was never realized. Until now - she had finally won.

It was an overwhelming joy that turned to horror in a microsecond as the hopes and dreams of decades came crashing back to reality when the man she planned to marry was revealed to be nothing more than a vengeful husk of his former self. Her chest tightened anew with pain and sorrow, still fresh and raw from abject despair as she remembered watching her love fade into dust.

Her feelings for Miss Swan had shocked her, barging into her brain and heart much like the subject itself: unruly, irrepressible and disrespectful of her history or desire. The woman she once hoped to avoid like the plague now made her heart race with a mere phone call. When they were together in person, Regina found she smiled more, laughed harder and felt happier than she had since Henry's arrival more than a decade earlier. Just the thought of seeing that horrid red leather jacket and its grinning owner made her beam, a shock of excitement radiating through her body. Regina stopped raking and realized, _I'm smiling like an idiot right now. Dammit._

With Daniel now gone forever, all Regina wanted was the love of one person: her son. She would live out her days alone, content to be the best mother she could be to the son who represented all her hopes and dreams for a happily ever after. But then Emma Swan came barreling up from a well, unleashing feelings she thought were forever dormant. She tried to fight it; she didn't want to be that vulnerable again. It was too painful and she was too broken.

She knew they were playing a dangerous game and, soon, it would be too late to turn back. Their comfort level around each other was rising steadily, flirtations increasing with each encounter. Smiles, affectionate glances and thoughtful gestures – they were all conspiring to turn their simmering attraction into a rolling boil.

After the walk home from the ice cream stand and Emma's unexpected chivalrous hand kiss, Regina had vowed to stop their momentum. _This has to end, now._ She couldn't risk her darkened, weakened heart one more time. Loving and losing again would destroy her beyond all measure. How could she be attracted to The Savior? The White Knight. The child of her sworn, lifelong enemies. Could their union be more improbable? The stakes any higher? It was madness. All the evidence pointed to one conclusion: _This was a very bad idea._

And that was when Daniel's final words began echoing relentlessly in her mind. She hadn't thought at all about his last request; it was too painful, her brain always pushing it away when she thought about that day. But now her brain relented and his final plea refused to be silenced.

She realized Daniel had never lied to her. And although he was barely alive and sentient in the stables that afternoon, thinking back Regina knew from the look in his eyes he _was_ there, he _was_ telling the truth, and – once again – he was trying to give her the happy ending for which she had searched all her life.

The former queen resumed her raking with a sigh. She found herself in familiar territory – a dangerous path with an uncertain outcome. Time and time again she took this road and lost. Certainly, she thought, she was due to win. A little spark of hope warmed her chest. Perhaps this would be her sweetest victory, at last.

XXXX

Emma absently patrolled the easy streets of Storybrooke, grateful for the fact the town – sans magic - was about as dangerous as a daycare. Her mind was decidedly elsewhere as she drove slowly through neighborhoods, her thoughts consumed by her former boss.

Since their dinner the day after the now-infamous Halloween party, Emma had come to the ironic realization she was head over heels for the woman who tried to poison her just six months earlier.

When someone spoke ill of the ex-Mayor – a frequent occurrence - Emma found that she wanted to punch them in the face, her desire to protect Regina seemingly now as strong as her instinct to safeguard their son. When she wasn't with Regina, she wondered what the brunette was doing and longed to be with her. _Like_ , she thought with a chuckle, _right now._

She had become a near-constant presence at Mifflin Street, especially since her relationship with Snow had grown so strained. The Savior had even taken to calling Regina at all times of the day, completely dropping any Henry-related pretense.

_Regina was changing bed sheets when The Clash's "I Fought The Law" blared out of her cell. Emma and Henry stole her phone at some point, because now whenever the Sheriff called, a picture of the two of them crossing their eyes, cocking their heads and sticking out their tongues appeared on the screen, accompanied by the classic punk song._

_Although she disliked the raucous ring tone, the picture made the brunette chuckle, but right now Regina's heart leapt into her throat._

_Her mind raced with worry._ It's 1:30 p.m. Henry is in school. Something happened to Henry.

_"Is everything OK?" she blurted in a panic. No time for salutations._

_"Yeah, everything's fine. Are_ you _OK?" Emma asked, voice tinged with concern._

_"Yes, it's just, the call scared me. I thought something was wrong with Henry."_

_"Huh?" Emma was taken aback by the assumption. "He's fine, I guess. Everything's normal at the school." Regina held the phone out as she heard Emma chewing in her ear. Anxiety over, the pair returned to their normal banter._

_"Must you eat into the phone?"_

_"Sry, Iphf hnry." Emma swallowed. "Sorry, I'm hungry. I missed lunch. So, do you still love my ringbone?"_

_"It's obnoxious, just like you."_

_"And yet you haven't gotten rid of either of us. Hmmmm…."_

_"Yet. So, why are you calling?"_

_"Well, hello to you, too. I just….I just called to say Hi. To see how your day's going." Emma was surprised she needed to explain this._

_Regina was shocked, momentarily speechless. No one ever called her just to talk, to ask about her day or see how she was doing. Warmth immediately spread across her chest as she realized the gesture for what it was; a tiny flicker of excitement raced up her spine._

_"Oh, well…I'm fine."_

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Cleaning the upstairs, changing bed sheets."_

_"Sounds more exciting than what I have on tap." Emma leaned back in her chair and arced a ball of paper at the trashcan across the room. The ball hit the rim and dropped to the floor._ Damn.

_"A pity," Regina laughed lightly. "Would you like to come over and help? The fitted sheets are always troublesome."_

_"Just like me."_

_"Indeed. Perhaps you have a special affinity for them. You do know what fitted sheets are, correct? You probably sleep in a bag."_

Ah, we're going this route, _Emma thought._ OK…

_"Ha, ha. They're the ones with the things at the end." Emma used her hands to mimic bed corners, an attempt that was lost on the woman at the other end of the phone._

_"That is the worst explanation of a fitted sheet I have ever heard."_

_"Heard many, washerwoman?"_

_"None aside from this, but I doubt any could be worse." Regina tried to sound as uninterested and unimpressed as possible, despite how much she enjoyed their banter._

_"They have the…" Emma strained for the right word, "elastics! They have the elastics on the end and they have rounded corners. Ah, ha!"_

_Regina held the phone between her shoulder and ear, bringing her hands together in a slow clap. "Well, Brava, Sheriff," she added playfully. "Well done." Regina's voice lowered seductively on the last word, sending a spark of arousal straight to Emma's core. "Your expertise aside, I doubt your superiors want their Sheriff helping the ex-Mayor make beds."_

_"You never know. I patrol. There could be crime afoot on the second floor of 108 Mifflin."_

_"Really? And what type of unlawful acts do you think may occur here?" Regina's already-deep voice had lowered to the basement in a smoky, sultry purr._

_Emma was slack-jawed, turned-on and stalling for time to think up a reply when the office's emergency line rang._

_"Dammit. I have to get that. I'll call you back."_

_Emma picked up the phone, angry that this little shit town couldn't keep it together long enough for her to finish what was to date the most promising conversation she'd had in a while._

_"Sheriff!" she barked._

Static crackled over the patrol car radio, breaking the blonde's reverie.

"Emma, what's your 20?" David's voice rang out clear, calm and strong, three adjectives that defined the man quite well.

"Near the Harbor."

"Can you come in?"

"On my way."

Emma released the talk button on the mic and dejectedly returned it to the clip on the dash. She drove slowly, in no rush to talk to her father after the blowout with her mother over Thanksgiving. Since the argument, Emma had barely seen her parents. She and David were working opposite shifts, which meant he made a special trip in to see her. _Shit_.

She visited the loft when she knew Snow was at school and only then to grab a quick shower and a change of clothes. She'd return after midnight, knowing her parents would be fast asleep, and slept in past when they left for work. She had been spending most of her time at Regina's or with Ruby, anxious to avoid any more run-ins with Snow. Since their argument over the holiday, the apartment was an uncomfortable, awkward space. _I need my own place_ , she thought wearily.

Granny's was out – her business would be all over town, plus she wanted a kitchen and a second bedroom for Henry. Ruby mentioned something about an apartment over Game of Thorns; she made a mental note to look into that after the holiday as she parked the car and walked into the station.

"Hey." Emma shrugged off her coat and sat behind her desk, offering a small smile along with the greeting to her father as he sat at the desk opposite.

"How are you doing, Em?"

"I'm OK."

"Your mother's very upset," he noted gently.

Emma's hackles jumped to attention. "Are you here to run interference? Convince me to come to dinner?"

"No," the prince's words firm but kind. "I just wanted to see you. Where you spend the holiday is your choice. I'm not here to talk you out of it. I just wanted to make sure you're OK."

Emma's defenses dropped. She felt guilty for automatically getting pissed at a man who had never been anything but considerate to her. Not to mention the fact that he was, you know, her father.

"I am," she sighed. "I just….I need to be with Henry and Regina. It's where I'm supposed to be."

Charming listened to his daughter carefully. He assumed she was talking about Thanksgiving, but her tone, her eyes, body language and choice of words were all inconsistent with his conclusion. They all pointed to something else. Something was…oh. _Oh_. He may have only been a shepherd, but even he could now see what was clearly in front of his face.

The man was stunned. He never suspected this, ever. But suddenly the reality of it hit him right between the eyes, which widened with the realization. David exhaled slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Are we talking about just the holiday or something more?"

Emma's cheeks immediately flushed, tipping her hand when she realized how transparent she was. "Uh…"

"It's fine, it's OK," he soothed. "I just…I never suspected."

Emma snickered. "Neither did I until recently…Don't tell Mom."

Charming laughed. "Now you call her Mom? Don't worry. I don't like keeping things from your mother, but she's in such a fragile state right now, I have no desire to break her completely. That's a conversation for you two."

"It's not that I don't want you to tell her, I want to tell her," Emma explained. "She deserves that much."

"She does. It makes me happy you see that."

"I care about her, David. I really do. I don't want to hurt her. It's just, I react very badly to people who try to tell me what to do. Growing up until I got out of prison, I had no choice. It was horrible. I don't want to go back to that. I'm finally able to make my own decisions, be my own person, and here's my mother – surprise – trying to force me into stuff I don't want."

"We're talking about Thanksgiving again, right?"

"Well, yeah," Emma chuckled, "among other things."

The blonde looked down, picking an imaginary thread out of her jeans. "I want to be a family with you guys, but it's going to take some time. We've all gone through a lot and I can't go from orphan to smothered child as fast as she can go from my roommate to my mother."

David nodded, then rubbed his chin and squinted his brilliant blue eyes at a new thought.

"You and Regina, have you—"

"No! _No_." Emma interrupted, mortified.

"Gods, no!" he laughed. "Not that. I meant, have you told her? Does she know how you feel? Does she feel the same way?"

"We haven't talked about…us…yet. I think she knows how I feel, and I think she feels the same way. I haven't found the right time yet. I want to take it slow. I don't want to spook her."

Emma's choice of words immediately brought David back to the stables and their recent violent reunion with Daniel.

The prince sighed, placed his palms on his thighs and leaned forward. "Listen, I just want you to be happy. I love you no matter what. That said, I need to tell you about what happened while you were in the old land with your mother. You should know this before you move forward with Regina."

Emma mirrored his posture, listening intently, as her father told her about the day he received a call that Dr. Whale had been attacked.

XXXX

Henry was reluctantly peeling potatoes under Regina's eagle eye when the doorbell rang.

"Thank God!" Henry exclaimed. "Emma!"

The boy raced to the door, Regina at his heels, anxious to welcome their guest.

Butterflies raced through the brunette's torso as Henry opened the door to find Emma, wide-eyed and smiling. She looked back and saw an excited Henry and his mother, dressed as a picture-perfect Thanksgiving hostess/chef: black dress slacks, heels and a maroon blouse covered by the requisite apron.

"Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!"

She swiftly walked through the door and grunted, nearly toppled by a tackling hug from her son. "Watch it, kid," she smiled. "You're going to knock me over one of these days."

Emma extricated herself from the boy's grip only to find him watching her expectantly. Henry's eyes darted from mother to mother, telegraphing his assumption. Both women looked tentative and a little shocked as they wordlessly figured out what Henry was waiting for.

Picking up on their son's expectation, Emma went in for a hug while Regina extended her arm for a handshake. Both looked at each other and laughed over the miscommunication, then tried again, switching to the other's advance, Regina moving in for a hug, Emma a handshake.

Henry huffed over their inability to even agree on a physical greeting. "Just hug, will you?"

Both stepped gingerly toward the other, wrapping their arms around each other like they were made of barbed wire. Once initial, awkward contact was made, Emma tightened the hug and Regina seemed to melt into her arms, closing her eyes and nestling her head into Emma's shoulder, lush blonde curls tickling her face.

Emma breathed in Regina's scent, all clean linen with a light touch of lavender, a smell uniquely Regina; she remembered it from her visit to the second floor after her impromptu post-Halloween party sleepover. Now she could enjoy it up close, her cheek cushioned against lush, sleek, onyx hair. She instinctively drew a hand up and down Regina's back, wondering how this larger-than-life woman was so impossibly petite and soft. She heard Regina sigh contentedly, warm breath tickling her neck.

The brunette reluctantly pulled her head off Emma's shoulder when she heard Henry start to walk away toward the parlor.

"Henry! The potatoes," she reminded, still in Emma's arms.

"I'm going to watch the parade!"

Regina was about to launch what Emma figured was either a threat or a command when she placed her index finger on Regina's lips and smiled. "I'll help."

"You can peel potatoes?"

"Like nobody's business. But there's a price."

Regina cocked an eyebrow as Emma grinned and tapped her cheek with her index finger.

Regina's cheeks flushed when she caught on. She leaned in with a coy smile and pecked the woman on the cheek. "Mmmmm," Emma hummed cheerfully. "Take me to those spuds."

XXXX

"I must admit, I thought you were exaggerating your potato peeling skills."

The women were working side by side in the kitchen: Emma, efficiently and expertly stripping potato after potato while Regina diced the squash. Electricity seemed to crackle in the relatively small space, temperatures and emotions running high as the smell of turkey wafted from the oven, enveloping the room.

"I am insulted at your assumption," the blonde scolded with a smile. "I'll have you know I've spent many an hour elbow-deep in potato peels." The lilt in her voice dropped a touch. She chuckled, ruefully. "Potato peeling was punishment for - we'll go with 'misbehavior' - at most of the homes. Hence, my exceptional skills."

Emma had casually mentioned group homes and foster situations on occasion and every time Regina felt a pang of guilt. "So, what was the big emergency yesterday?" Regina asked lightly, desperate to change the subject and the mood.

"Nothing that was worth ending my call with you, I'll tell you that," Emma grumbled. "Friggin' Pongo…I like Archie, but that man has to got to get that mutt under control."

"It is hard to believe a man who's skilled enough to counsel adults can't keep a dog on a leash."

"I know, right?" Emma paused, wondering how to proceed, but in true Savior fashion bolted right ahead, anyway. "I'm seeing him, you know."

Regina paused, the butcher knife poised over half a squash, mouth slightly open at the admission. "What?"

"I decided to go talk to Archie, you know, professionally. My first appointment was Tuesday." Emma continued to peel away, eyes straight ahead, a large mound of shavings growing in the sink.

"Why?"

"Probably the same reasons most go." Emma laughed at her statement. "OK, not the exact same reasons, but a lot has happened to me in the last year." She stopped, placed the peeler and potato in the sink, and turned toward Regina.

"A lot has changed. And like I said before, I don't want to screw it up." Emma's voice morphed from confident and matter-of-fact to tentative and quiet. Regina drew in a small gasp at Emma's statement, placed the knife on the cutting board and faced her.

"You're not," she whispered.

"Really?"

"Really."

Emma was about to make her move when Regina surprised her, taking a step forward, cupping the blonde's face with one hand and stroking her cheek with her thumb. Emma grinned nervously, as Regina smiled back gently, threading her hand into thick curls and pulling her forward into a soft kiss.

As Emma's lips slid over Regina's she could feel the woman's lipstick, taste traces of the coffee she had earlier and heard a small, satisfied coo escape. Hands wet from the potatoes, Emma quickly dried them on the back of her jeans and closed the gap between their bodies, wrapping her arms around Regina's tiny frame. She was rewarded by the brunette deepening the kiss, snaking out her tongue to meet Emma's lips, which opened instantly. Spurred on by a soft moan of encouragement, the blonde backed Regina up against the sink and not-so-subtlety wedged a thigh between her legs.

Regina purred languidly, as Emma felt her break their kiss with a smile.

"Pretty romantic, huh?" Emma smiled blissfully. "Our first kiss, over a sink filled with potato peels."

"It's not a windswept meadow of flowers, but it was sufficient," she teased.

Emma dipped her head, her smile so bright and emotions so high she could barely stare at the gorgeous woman, not believing her own luck. When she lifted her head, she saw eyes so deep, wide and vulnerable, her heart felt like it would split in two. Emma tilted her head in adoration and tucked an errant strand of mussed hair behind the brunette's ear, then kept her hand on her stunning face, cradling her cheek.

"Sufficient? I better try harder next time."

Emma moved in with a wolfish grin, rotating her hips just enough to earn a gasp from her partner. Then she leaned in capturing Regina's lips with her own, intent on doing just that.

XXXX

"OK, football is like war," Emma announced, gesturing at the TV. "The team in white is my parents' army, the team in black is yours."

"This analogy is disturbing, I want you to know."

Dinner over and kitchen cleaned, the women sat on the couch in the parlor, Regina nestled into Emma's side. Henry sat in a Windsor chair off to the right, headphones on, engrossed in his iPad, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his always-formal mother was all-but sitting in his birth mother's lap just five feet away.

Emma hoped this football lecture would detract from the fact that after a vigorous makeout session in the kitchen, and Regina's hand on her knee during dinner, she was turned on beyond belief with no chance for relief, not with Henry awake.

"The opposite ends of the field are called end zones. Imagine that your castle is there, in that end zone." Emma pointed at the south end zone. "The Charming team – or army's – goal is to get the ball into your castle. Distance on the field is measured in yards, and armies have four tries to advance the ball 10 yards. If they fail, they have to give the ball to your army and defend their castle against your army's movement."

Regina nodded, studying the action closely. A small gasp escaped her lips as the quarterback was sacked, driven ruthlessly into the ground by a gigantic linebacker.

"Oh, my…can they do that?"

"That's the quarterback, he's like the king. He directs the offense, deciding how to advance the ball and exploit the other team's defense."

"He looks hurt," she noted. "He's taking a long time to get up."

"Not a surprise. The guy who landed on him is probably well over 300 pounds."

Emma moved her eyes from the TV to her right, where her – wow, girlfriend? – was nuzzled. She yearned to throw an arm around the woman or hold her hand, but Henry was right there. She didn't want to freak him out; not yet, anyway. Maybe his presence was a good thing, any additional physical contact would push her over a very private, personal edge.

"Speaking of 300 pounds, I want to get ready for dessert," Emma informed, excitedly.

"What do you mean 'get ready'?"

The blonde regretfully uncurled herself from Regina, crossed the room and reached into her bag, pulling out a pair of sweatpants. "I'm putting these on."

"And _what_ are those?" she asked with disgust.

"Sweatpants. I brought them to change into for dessert."

"Why?"

"So I can eat a lot of pie and my pants won't feel tight." Emma grinned, impressed at her foresight.

"I will not allow you at the table with elasticized trousers."

"Trousers!" The blonde tittered as Regina shook her head. "Well, fine then. I'll just have to sneak into the kitchen and eat like a servant."

"You will do no such thing, get over here. This quarterback is about to be attacked by another fat man."

Emma unceremoniously plopped on the couch; a single piece of paper couldn't fit between them. If they couldn't hold hands or cuddle, they'd damn sure be as close to each other as they could. "Telling me what to do already, huh?"

A small smile graced Regina's face as she turned her head, a breath away from the blonde. "You Charmings luck into everything, you do realize that…"

Emma leaned in for a kiss, but caught their son, still unobservant, out of the corner of her eye. _Dammit_. She groaned in frustration, Regina tittering at her reaction.

"Thank you again for dinner. It was amazing," Emma noted quietly. "This is the best Thanksgiving I've ever had."

"I can't imagine that's a hard list to top."

"Hey!" Emma feigned offense, pinching Regina lightly, just above her hip. The former Evil Queen squealed at the unexpected attack.

"Did you just _giggle_?"

"I did no such thing."

Emma raised an eyebrow, devilishly. "You're ticklish?"

"I most certainly am not."

"I can't wait to find out…What time does the kid go to bed, anyway?"

"Stop sulking, dear. You'll get wrinkles."

Emma snorted, thinking the remark sounded like something Cora would have told Regina a billion times. She wisely decided not to ask.

"You know," the blonde started, "this is the Thanksgiving I always wanted. A nice dinner, watching football. Relaxing with family."

"Is that what we are?" Regina turned her face to look up at her partner, wistful. "Family?"

"I would like that. A lot."

Regina sighed, content, and leaned into Emma as much as decorum would allow with their son in the room.

"Me, too."

"Regina?"

"Yes, dear?"

Emma placed her hand on Regina's thigh and began to lightly rub back and forth. This was torture.

"Seriously, when the fuck does our son go to bed?"

XXXX

Across town, The Charmings' first Thanksgiving dinner was winding down to a handful of friends drinking wine and enjoying each other's company. Snow had invited so many people, especially those unattached or without loved ones, she asked Blue if they could host it in the convent's community room.

It was win-win: The sisters got to host a gathering for those who needed a place to celebrate, and The Charmings got to expand their dinner to include everyone they wanted at their holiday meal. Everyone, that is, except the one person Snow longed for most.

The brunette was mulling over the irony off in a corner when Blue spotted her clearly downhearted friend. It was a reversal so stark from Snow's normal, can-do optimism, she felt compelled to see if she could help.

"Are you alright, my friend? You look troubled."

Snow smiled weakly, the happy expression never reaching her eyes. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm fine."

The fairy raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "You can't fool me, I've known you since you were a babe," she chided gently. "What is it? Is it about Emma?"

Like any good lawyer, Blue asked the question already knowing the answer. She had learned from Granny and Ruby – separately, she thought with amusement – that Emma would not be at the dinner. It's a fact that devastated Snow but delighted the Blue Fairy because she knew where The Savior was.

_Regina was a murderous menace in the Enchanted Forest, and since the curse broke, Blue swore she would not allow a repeat performance in this world. She'd be dammed if she had to spend another lifetime protecting her people from two ticking time bombs._

_The fairy knew she couldn't do anything about Rumple, he was far too dark and powerful, plus even if she could get rid of him the decision came with a price she refused to pay. No one was that holy. One would have to go, and with the curse broken and Snow and Emma returned, it was time for Blue to put her plan into action. Regina could not be reformed, Blue decided - judge, jury and executioner. The dark witch had to be eliminated. Permanently._

_Now magic-less thanks to a fortuitous promise to her son, the former Evil Queen would prove to be short work, she thought. Blue just had to find the perfect scheme, and thanks to an old friend, she had._

_After the curse broke, Sidney had been released from the institution, angry and hell-bent on revenge against his former boss for offenses now over two realms. Blue almost laughed at the serendipity. The convent housed the disgraced reporter in their guest shelter. Blue got public kudos for her generosity and kindness, helping to reform the fallen man, as well as a private minion itching to take down his unrequited love._

_She had Sidney follow Regina everywhere to find something she could use against the former Queen. She almost didn't believe it the day Sidney came running into her office, nearly panting with excitement._

_"Mother…the Queen…she…"_

_"What is it?"_

_The man handed over his long-lensed digital camera and pressed the menu button to display images of Regina, Emma and Henry eating ice cream at The Cow. She forwarded one by one until she hit the jackpot – Emma kissing Regina's hands outside her home._

_Blue chuckled. "Thank you, Sidney," she praised. "This will do quite nicely."_

Snow looked like she was about to cry. "Please don't tell anyone," she pleaded quietly. "I asked David to tell everyone Emma was working but she's at Regina's with Henry."

Concern was written all over the fairy's face as she took Snow's hands in her own.

"I hate to lie to my friends, but I couldn't tell them the truth. I know she wants to be with Henry today, I just don't understand why they couldn't be together here. Granny and Ruby know," she sighed, "but I just couldn't admit it to anyone else."

"Oh, my dear," Blue patted Snow's hands kindly. "I know how painful this is for you."

Blue looked Snow in the eyes, then turned away, her face tight.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"That's not nothing." The defacto-Queen's voice grew suspicious.

"I don't wish to hurt you."

"Withholding information hurts me." Snow's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I don't know how to say this."

"Blue…"

"Come with me." Blue stood and quietly slipped from the room, Snow right behind.

The women sat on a tattered, old couch in her office, Blue reaching for Snow's hands once again.

"Regina is interested in Emma."

"What do you mean?" Snow's voice was pure steel.

"Regina is in love with her."

An ice-cold column of fear attacked Snow's spine, followed by scalding rage.

_"What. Do. You. Mean?"_

Blue went to her desk, opened her drawer and returned with the camera.

"Sidney's been obsessed with Regina since he was released. He's been monitoring her every move, hoping he could find a way to win her heart. I figured as long as he didn't hurt her, it wouldn't be a bad idea to keep an eye on her."

Blue sighed sadly, turned on the camera and pulled up the pictures of Emma, Henry and Regina at the ice cream stand.

"They're just taking Henry out for a treat," Snow noted, letting go of a large breath. "That's hardy lo—"

The brunette stopped, stunned into silence when Blue reached the picture of Emma kissing Regina's hands.

"I'm so sorry."

"But you said…you said Regina was in love with Emma. You never said Emma…"

"I couldn't," she cried, despondent. "I couldn't utter those words to you. I would never hurt you this way, my child, but I think your need to know what is happening with your daughter outweighs my weakness."

"My daughter," Snow echoed, hanging her head in defeat, gutted by an image she could never unsee. "My daughter…and…Regina?"

"I wouldn't have told you if it were just this image, but others have told me they've seen them around town together. Having lunch. At Henry's soccer game. People are worried about their princess, they tell me she is at Regina's house at all hours of the day and night."

Snow lifted her head, eyes haunted, her face even paler than normal. "Blue…Blue, you have to fix this," she begged, tears welling in her eyes. "There must be a spell or fairy dust or something."

"Just like we cannot make people fall in love, neither can we prevent it."

"No! But, Regina's a _woman_." She paused, gutted. " _And_ she's Regina." Her anger quickly transformed into despair. "Emma is a princess. She's supposed to marry a _prince_ , have children and extend the line. It's her _duty_. If she's with Regina she can't…

"The Evil Queen as Princess Consort? That _would_ be novel," the fairy noted wryly.

"I…I….I can't." Overwhelmed and distraught, Snow paused for a minute, unable to continue, dropping her head to her hands.

"Surely," she implored, "there must be something you can do."

Blue grabbed one of Snow's hands and wrapped her other arm around the woman's shoulder, reassuringly rubbing an arm in support. Her lips turned up at the corners, her face open and guileless: "There may be something I can do."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The action gets ratcheted up a bit in this chapter, so we're not quite T, not quite M, say T+? Also, trigger warnings: violence and some verbal abuse.

"Hey," Emma announced, her voice wavering a touch as she tentatively walked into her parents' apartment. She tried to play it cool, like it hadn't been two weeks and one major holiday since she'd seen her mother.

"Hi, honey. How are you?"

Emma stopped short as she made her way to the stairs, cocking her head in surprise. She expected desperate questions, tears, even silence - not a nonchalant salutation. The blonde dropped her duffle bag at the foot of the stairs and moved to the couch, sitting next to her mother.

Emma eyed her skeptically. "I'm fine. How are _you_?"

"Good, what have you been up to?"

_"I know it's hard, but you have to let Emma come to you," Blue informed Snow. "Don't let on that you know about her…relationship." Snow physically winced at the last word. "Act like nothing's amiss and everything has been fine between the two of you. If you confront her about Regina - pressure her or try to forbid her in any way - you will just push her further into that witch's embrace."_

_Snow nodded, crestfallen. "I know."_

_"I know you do, and it's imperative you follow through with my advice. When she comes to tell you about Regina –_ and she will - _don't get upset. That will harm your relationship. The most important thing you need to do is to preserve your bond with your daughter._ You _will be the constant in her life, not Regina."_

_Blue had decided it was only fitting that the Evil Queen suffer as much as those over whom she had ruled. To do that she would let the women start a relationship and fall in love. The Savior would recognize the folly of her ways, break Regina's heart, and then - only then, when the fallen Queen had loved deeply and lost completely one last time - would she put the dark witch out of her misery._

_The fairy smiled warmly, patting Snow's slightly trembling hands. "Leave Regina to me."_

Emma dropped her head and sighed.

She hated sneaking around, avoiding her parents, creeping into the apartment. She wasn't ashamed of her growing relationship with Regina. If the town had an issue with it and, frankly, if her mother had a problem with it, fuck them all. _This is my life_. While she wasn't going to throw a parade announcing their romance, she certainly wouldn't deny it, either.

She also hated putting David in the position of knowing the truth and keeping it from his wife. It was an untenable position and he was a good man. He deserved better. Regina deserved better. _Hell, even I do._

Emma let out a large breath and began. "There's something I need to tell you…"

Snow strained to keep her face impassive, Blue's advice ringing in her ears. _Let Emma come to you._

"I haven't been around much because I've been spending a lot of time with Henry…and Regina."

Snow bit the inside of a round cheek, trying to avoid a reaction. Hearing the news from Blue was one thing, having it confirmed by her daughter was totally different and completely devastating.

_Don't get upset._

Snow feigned surprise. "What?"

"I…" Emma threaded her fingers together, bringing them to her mouth as if she were trying to will the truth out in the easiest, least-painful way. "I'm dating Regina."

Snow's mouth formed a perfect O. "Oh…I…"

Emma braced for an onslaught of emotion - yelling, screaming, threatening, ordering – but nothing came. Instead of the woman angrily popping like a balloon, she acted as if the air had been let out, fizzling slowly into a limp shade of itself.

Emma narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Are you on meds or something?"

"What? No, of course not. I just…" Snow exhaled slowly, resigned. "I'm surprised. Confused."

"I thought you'd be upset."

"Truthfully, honey, I am taken aback," she noted, matter of fact. "But yelling at you won't help matters. You're an adult. It's your life. I love you, no matter what. I want you to be happy."

All of these statements were true, it wasn't like she was lying, Snow thought. It's just the latter would be true if Regina were eliminated from the picture.

"I'm you came to me. I'm happy you were able to be truthful with me. It's all I want."

She heard Blue's guidance once more: _Act as if nothing happened, just tell her:_

"I'm going to need time to work through this."

Emma smiled weakly, tears forming in her eyes. She felt so relieved, a heavy weight lifted off her chest. This was so much easier than she expected.

"Of course, right."

Emma gently grabbed her mother's hands and squeezed, trying not to cry. She hated conflict, she despised fighting – especially with the person for whom she searched her entire life.

"Thanks…Mom."

Snow leaned over and pulled her daughter into an anguished hug. She had finally heard the word she'd been longing for. _Why did it feel so empty?_

XXXX

If Emma Swan had a motto it was, as of late: "I don't want to screw it up." Her entire life, she longed to be wanted, to be a part of a family and to be loved. With Regina and Henry, the former ward of the state of Maine knew she was close to achieving her life-long goal, which is why for the first time in her life she wanted to do everything right. And that is why she found herself occupying a lunchtime stool at Granny's, hoping to get some old-world advice from the fire-engine-red lips of Ruby Lucas.

The blonde was trying to get through lunch, but the butterflies in her stomach made it difficult. She thought about asking David for relationship guidance, but the fact he was now her father, well, it was just too weird.

Ruby freshened up Emma's coffee and leaned over with a whisper. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Emma looked over her shoulders, sizing up the lunch crowd and her prospects for relative privacy.

"I—"

"I knew it! I _knew_ you were gettin' some. You look different."

"Actually, we haven't—"

"Yeah! I _knew_ it. All right!"

Ruby clapped her hands, then set her elbows on the counter and leaned forward.

"Who is he?" The waitress' eyes were the size of saucers, she was so titillated at the impending news.

Emma fixed a fierce gaze at her friend. "You _have_ to keep this quiet. Seriously, I mean it. And you cannot spread it all around town. Got it?"

"OK, OK. I will. I mean, I won't. Now… _who_?" Ruby's bright white teeth spread across her face, she practically vibrated with excitement.

Emma glanced over her shoulder one more time, turned back and leaned in close. "Regina," she whispered.

Ruby's eyes opened as wide as they could go, mouth agape when the words registered in her brain. She reared back with gasp, a look of absolute shock seizing her face. "Are you fucking crazy?" she shrieked.

"RUBY!" Granny glared at the pair from behind the grill.

"Sor…sorry Granny."

Ruby covered her mouth with her hand, stunned, holding in any more words, as if her jaw was suddenly incapable of closing. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths to compose herself, then leaned back against the prep counter, distancing herself as far as she could from her friend.

"I…" she started, "I don't know what to say."

"Say you're happy for me."

"Wait," the waitress waived her hand in front of Emma's face. "Are you under some sort of spell?"

Emma swatted the hand away, annoyed. "Of course not."

"Then what on earth are you thinking?"

"I think I want to spend a lot of time with her because I really like her."

"Why? Because she's hot?"

"Well, obviously, but she's a good person, she's really changing. She's not using magic, she's trying to be better."

"A…a good person?" Ruby asked, astonished. "We're still talking about Regina, right? I know you think you're a bad ass, but I'm worried you're getting in over your head."

"Excuse me? I'm not Little Red Riding Hood."

Ruby blew out a frustrated breath. "First off – low blow. Second, Mayor Mills was a stone-cold bitch. And even on her worst day she wasn't remotely in the league of the Evil Queen. Regina killed _entire villages_ , Emma. I saw what she left behind. She is deadly and can't be trusted."

"But she's not the Evil Queen, anymore. Hell, she's not even the mayor. She's just Regina, Henry's mom. You don't know her now."

"And you didn't know her then!"

"You sound like my mother."

"And you sound like you're going to get yourself killed and ruin your family over a hot piece of ass."

"She and Henry _are_ my family," Emma growled. "I can't believe I thought you would help me."

"Jesus, that's right." Ruby chuckled ruefully. "We never even got to the 'helping' part. What did you want, anyway?"

"I don't want to get into it now."

Ruby braced herself against the corner, arms ramrod straight. "I need time to, like, digest this before I can help - if I decide to help. You've got to give me some time."

"You know what? I don't care how you feel about this and, frankly, I don't care if you help me," Emma hissed, her eyes narrowed in disappointment and anger. "But don't go spreading this around town at the top of your lungs. When people find out, they find out. I don't need you throwing gas on a fire."

"Or, what? Is your girlfriend going to fry my ass with a fireball?"

"Cheap shot," she warned, getting up and walking out the door without a backwards glance.

Emma stormed into her cruiser, slamming the door so hard the window rattled. She smacked her palm against the steering wheel in frustration, crushed. That didn't go as planned at all.

Stomach churning over the argument, The Savior knew there was only one place she wanted to go. Hell, still tentative with Snow and definitely at odds with Ruby, there was only one place she could go for comfort and support; lucky for her, they were one and the same.

XXXX

Regina had just put a pan of chicken cutlets in the oven and was stirring a pot of sauce on the stove when she felt her phone vibrate. She picked it up, ran her finger across and screen and smiled when she saw the name, affection gripping her chest.

**You home?**

_Yes. Everything OK?_

**No. I need you. Can I come over early?**

_Always._

She had barely returned her phone to the counter when the doorbell rang. Regina walked into the foyer and opened the door to find a sheepish Emma.

"Hi."

"How did you—"

"I texted from your porch."

The forlorn woman entered and was rewarded with a warm embrace from her girlfriend. The blonde buried her head in Regina's sleek black hair and sighed.

"What's wrong, darling?"

"A lot," she murmured, head still tucked into Regina's shoulder.

"Come, tell me what happened."

Regina took her partner's hand and led her to the living room couch. She sat down and tugged Emma to follow suit, guiding her blonde curls to her lap as the woman reclined the length of the couch.

"I had a talk with Ruby, it didn't go well."

"About?" Regina asked gently, stroking Emma's hair.

"Us. I'm so happy, I wanted to tell someone, anyone," Emma sighed, omitting that she was also hoping to mine the waitress for a little information. "And my closest friend here, she…"

"She urged you not to get involved with me."

"Something like that." Emma took Regina's hands and kissed the palms. "I wish everyone could see you like this."

"I don't. This treatment is reserved for very special people." Regina smirked and leaned over to kiss Emma on the forehead.

The blonde smiled, serene, eyes closed in bliss. "I mean, I wish people could see who you are now, not who you were."

"That's a lot to ask, dear. I was not a kind person. I caused a lot of pain and suffering."

Regina frowned. It was staring already. Someone she cared for was tormented because of their relationship to her. She was ruining another life. The last thing Regina wanted was for Emma to suffer for her sins.

"Yeah, I understand that but…" Emma paused, sat up and turned her head, a question written across her face. "What's that smell? Is that dinner?"

"The beginnings of it, yes, chicken parmesan." Regina nearly laughed at the ease of which Emma's mind could be distracted. She was like a cat that just got a glance at a laser pointer.

"I didn't know you knew how to make that."

"I don't, this is my first time. You're my guinea pig."

"Well, it certainly smells great. What's the occasion?"

"I wanted to try something new, you're coming for dinner tonight and you mentioned it was your favorite."

Emma thought back. "I don't even remember mentioning that. When did I? You made it for me?"

"I _do_ listen to you," she laughed.

Warmth spread through Emma's body. She did, Regina did listen to her. They had been a couple for only a week, yet Emma had never felt so cherished, so lovingly fussed over in her entire lonely life.

With Snow, she felt like a possession, the missing piece, the perfect princess to finally round out their happy ending. It was smothering and, when she looked at it objectively, saw it as selfish on Snow's part. Emma was valuable because of the role she was supposed to fill, the one she was born to, not because of who she was, who she had become. Snow loved her sincerely, Emma knew that, but she couldn't help but feel like just another supporting character in the Charming fairy tale.

But in Regina's eyes, Emma felt treasured, cherished and never under any obligation to be someone or do anything she was not. After taking those first, tentative steps forward on Thanksgiving, Regina had done little, unexpected, everyday things to show her affection for the blonde.

When Emma picked Henry up for school one morning, out walked the boy with his lunch…and Emma's, too. "Here," he announced, unimpressed, tossing her a brown bag. "Mom said to give this to you." She couldn't wait to drop the kid off so she could open the bag and see what Regina had packed. But the food took a backseat to the folded note she found, which announced in perfect script: _Thinking of you today. Be safe. See you tonight. Yours – R_ Lunch was great, but Emma liked the note even better, tucking it away in her wallet for safekeeping.

There was the day she arrived and found all her dirty laundry removed from the back of the Bug, washed, dried and folded. "Now that I have a vested interest in your appearance, I decided to take matters into my own hands," she teased. "Plus, given their state, I'm not sure you know how to operate a washing machine."

And now here she was, barging in five hours early for dinner getting soothed by a woman who had been spending the day making her favorite meal. Emma placed her hands on either side of Regina's face, cupping it gently. "You are so good to me, I don't deserve you."

Embarrassed by the sheer adoration, Regina tipped her head a bit, and a blush colored her face. "I think you have that backwards, dear. And you most certainly do."

Emma pulled her girlfriend in for a kiss, starting out gentle, but ramping up the intensity when she realized Henry wouldn't be home for at least two hours. Her wait was over.

_After their son had gone to bed Thanksgiving night, the couple's activity on the couch had heated to the point in which Regina, blouse untucked, halfway unbuttoned and lying on top of Emma breathily pleaded, "Upstairs."_

_"Henry…" Emma groaned, a frustrated reminder, as she sucked on the corded muscle of Regina's neck while massaging a handful of her chest. She languidly guided a thumb over the brunette's breast, feeling the nipple stand at attention._

_"Unh, I can…" Regina paused, trying to enjoy the fierce sensations and finish a sentence. "I can soundproof the room."_

_Emma knew what she had to do, so she copped a good feel and reveled in the sounds of her lover's arousal before she spoke. "I have to go," she sighed sadly._

_"What?"_

_Regina sat up, her weight pressing on the supine Sheriff's groin. "What do you mean?"_

_"I should go. And this position," she rasped, noting Regina's skirt was pushed up and – oh, Jesus, were those garters - "is not helping."_

_"But why?" Regina looked crestfallen, tempting Emma to go back on her plan just to remove the disappointed look from her lover's face._

_In thinking about the possibility of a relationship with Regina, Emma had certainly given a lot of thought to the brunette's past relationships. From what she could cobble together, her marriage to Leopold was horrific, obviously. Her first love had been killed by her mother. And Graham was basically a walking sex toy. She sure as shit wouldn't ask her mother, but Emma assumed Regina's sexual history had been brief and lacking. She wanted their intimacy to be special and, to prove it, Emma decided – currently incredibly regretfully – to wait._

_"I want to take it slow."_

_Regina protested sharply. "I don't feel rushed."_

_"I know, but I want you to understand you're more than a means to an end. I care about you for you – and not just to get you into bed. Although, I can't express how much I want to do that right now."_

_"Then let's go upstairs."_

_Emma whined in frustration. "No, I have to leave." The Savior helped gently move Regina off her and stood, slipping on her boots, grabbing her jacket and heading toward the door._

_"Your chivalry is impressive."_

_"Runs in the family. But right now, it's physically painful. I have to go. I'll call you in the morning. Thank you, so much, for today. It was perfect."_

_Emma captured Regina's lips in a chaste kiss. A hug would topple her crumbling resolve completely and she'd end up taking the stunning woman right there in the foyer._

_"It was my pleasure, dear. Good night."_

_An hour later, Emma lay in bed, still tuned up like a high-tension wire. This was a very bad idea. She grabbed her phone._

**I'm regretting my chivalry right now.**

_I would imagine so._

**Tell me a bedtime story.**

_If you're trying to get me to sext with you, think again._

**What are you wearing?**

_A tasteful pantsuit._

Emma laughed so hard, the bed shook as she tried to muffle her giggles from her sleeping parents one floor below.

**You sure know how to turn me on.**

_Your sacrifice tonight was one of the most romantic gestures I've ever received. Good night, dear._

The women were covering every centimeter of the other's mouths with their tongues when Emma reluctantly pulled away, panting, "Henry…"

"…is at school."

"Exactly."

A feral smile graced Regina's face as Emma practically dove on top of her. She held Regina's hands in her own above the brunette's head as she suckled her collarbone and traced a path with the other down the side of her lover's torso. Regina giggled, pulling her hands free of Emma's and playfully slapped her on the shoulder. "Stop!"

"Not ticklish, eh?"

"Take me," Regina purred.

Emma wedged a thigh between Regina's legs to get purchase, but the sensation was instantly so luscious, the brunette had to pursue it. She planted one foot on the couch, another on the floor and ground her core into Emma's thigh with a grunt, holding the woman in place, hands franticly grabbing the blonde's ass for leverage.

"Emma," she panted desperately, bucking underneath her girlfriend, her dress pants creating exquisite friction against Emma's skintight jeans.

Emma moaned approvingly, busy laving a nipple through Regina's lace lingerie. "Mmmmm," she hummed, the wet heat creating nearly overwhelming sensations that only sped up Regina's already runaway arousal.

She didn't know how close Regina was until her moans turned into a frantic cry, "Emma!" as she wildly ground into the blonde harder, jerking in a frenzy. "Gods, Emma, I'm—"

The hoarse cry was so erotic, so fierce, Emma nearly came at the sound of it. A quick shift of her hips pushed the blonde over; the pair held on to each other, shaking randomly with aftershocks, gasping and mewling with each jolt, gently bringing each down.

Emma lifted her head from Regina's shoulder and smiled, "Hi."

Regina nodded, embarrassed, red staining her cheeks.

"Hey," she smiled. "That was beautiful."

"It was too soon. I didn't mean to spend myself so quickly."

"Spend?" Emma giggled.

"Do you want the vulgar parlance?"

"Only if you want me to _spend_ myself again, right now."

Regina hoisted an eyebrow and launched a wicked smirk, one pure Evil Queen.

"I didn't mean to cum so quickly."

"Gah," Emma moaned. " _Please_ tell me you like dirty talk. I will pass out from all the…spending."

"Maybe you will find out."

"Maybe?" Emma gently pushed herself up and off Regina. "Wow, I am so…" she searched for an appropriate word given the situation at hand. "I need new pants."

"Pity, we didn't even get those off you."

Emma smiled, a bantering Regina was a comfortable Regina. This was good.

"That can be arranged," she noted calmly, quickly bending over and picking up her petite lover in her arms. "Let's arrange that right now."

"Miss Swan!" she teased.

Emma's biceps flexed, easily carrying the tiny woman easily the stairs. "Back to that? Already? Or are we playing sexy sheriff and naughty mayor?" Her voice dropped to a sultry rumble, as a thumb snaked in between the brunette's thighs and rubbed seductively. "I believe someone reported some unlawful acts occurring at this residence."

Regina groaned, pressing her lips to Emma's cheek. "What about the—"

Emma growled, nearly at the landing. "We'll order in."

XXXX

Kitchen cleaned, beds made, house virtually spotless, Regina sat at the kitchen table, glanced at her watch and sighed. Emma wouldn't be off work for another 5 hours. She headed to the study to grab a book, then had a better idea and reached for her phone.

"Hey!"

"Hello, yourself. How is your day?"

Emma smiled brightly at the realization the former Evil Queen was calling her to ask her about her day. This was amazing progress.

"My day is boring. I'm very tempted to swing by Mifflin Street, I hear there's been an uptick in indecent activities as of late, reports of screams," she noted innocently.

"I think that's a wise idea. As a concerned citizen, I no doubt would be happy to provide you with a cup of coffee if you wanted to come in and take my…report…in person."

Emma instantly visualized how this would go, Regina meeting her at the door in a negligee, begging for the assistance of her sheriff. She swallowed thickly, a throb beginning in her core.

"Ma'am," she noted formally, "I…wait. Ugh, I'm already getting turned on. I can't. If I walk in your house, I'm not walking out for several hours."

Regina chuckled. "That's the Charming in you. I hate that."

"I bet," she laughed, loving their new level of repartee. "How are you?"

"Sore, to be honest."

"Oh, _oh_ … I didn't hurt you, did I?" Regina could hear concern ratchet up to worry. "I can come over, do you need something, what—"

"No," she smiled. "It's a good sore."

"I wish I could be with you, right now. Hold your hand and tell you how amazing yesterday was."

Emma's gentle words brought Regina right back to the previous afternoon in her bedroom. The couple had finally made it to Regina's bed, where they made love until they veered dangerously close to the time Henry would be home from school. Regina could feel Emma's strong arms holding her, fingers stroking her sweat-slicked hair, kisses reverently placed on the top of her head. Regina started to choke up, she had never felt so adored, protected and treasured.

"You surprise me, Emma Swan. You're a hopeless romantic, I wouldn't have suspected that."

"It's in my genes, you know."

"Don't remind me."

"Honestly, though? I've never been the share-how-I-feel type, hearts and flowers. You…" her voice softened with the realization. "You bring it out in me."

There was a few seconds of silence, Emma swore she heard a sniffle. "You're trying to tell me you're not a romantic and in the very same sentence say the most romantic thing I've ever heard?"

"I am very talented."

"Will I see you tonight?"

"Definitely, just a little later. Maybe 6? I need to meet Ruby, she called and wants to see me."

"Alright. Be safe."

"Always."

Regina heard the call disconnect, looked at her watch and exhaled dramatically. _Six hours to go…_

XXXX

"So, how do I court Regina?"

Ruby choked on her coffee as she turned – half-shocked, half-pissed - to look at Emma, sitting at the opposite desk at the station.

"Shit! Give me some notice next time." The waitress coughed, cleared her throat and got her breathing back to normal before continuing. "You want to _court_ Regina? What the fuck did she put in that turkey?"

"Funny. I want to do this right. What do I do?"

Emma had arrived at the station to find Ruby, two coffees and a bear claw. "Reparation," she explained. "I'm sorry for how that went down yesterday. You shocked the shit out of me."

She rolled her chair closer and leaned forward. "You're a smart woman. You know what you're doing. It's just, I care about you and I don't want you hurt…or killed."

Emma leaned over and affectionately grabbed the wolf's shoulder. "Ha, ha."

"Is that why you were at her house on Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Your mom told me. That killed her, you know, you not being at dinner. Does she know about—"

"We talked a couple of days ago."

"Oh my God, how'd she take it?"

"Better than you." Emma snorted.

Ruby's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Are you serious?"

Emma leaned back and kicked up her legs to rest on the desk. "I couldn't believe it, either. She looked stunned, but she didn't cry or yell or demand I stop seeing her. I thought she was on drugs. She was frighteningly calm."

"That's not like her, at all. Maybe you shocked her into a catatonic state or something," Ruby laughed. "OK, so what do you meant 'court'?"

"I don't know. Date? Go steady? How would someone date Regina back in the, um, you know, old days?"

"They wouldn't. She was a queen. She didn't date. She was _property_."

"And we know how that worked out. Pretend she wasn't queen. How would you date, court, woo, whatever, any lady back in the day?"

Ruby snorted, a smile parting those big bright-red lips. "Woo? What are you _on_?" The waitress couldn't help herself, doubling over in laughter, eyes watering with tears.

"You have the dopiest grin on your face, you're completely lovestruck. You can practically see Cupid's arrow sticking out of your ass."

"Hey, does he really —"

Ruby held up her hand. "Don't ask...but now I know you're not cursed."

Emma raised an eyebrow in question.

"If Regina cursed you to fall in love with her, she'd go right to fucking, preferably in front of your mother, to drive her completely mad. There'd be no notes-and-flowers bullshit. That's all Charming. I know your parents. That is all you."

"Thanks. I think?"

A wry grin turned Ruby's lips up at the corners. "All this time Regina's been trying to destroy your mom and all she had to do was turn you on. This is fucking unreal – and that's saying something for this town."

Emma playfully slapped Ruby on the arm. "Stop enjoying the irony so much. So, woo, court, whatever you call it. What do I do? As far as I can figure, aside from her first boyfriend – _who her mother murdered, by the way_ – she's never had a good relationship. Hell, I doubt she's ever been on a date or had anyone ever show her they care."

Ruby assessed her friend with a straight face. "Wow, you really like her."

"No, I don't." Emma seemed to stare off in the distance. She was not a person who did anything by half. "I love her."

The waitress looked at her friend and decided to stop teasing and start helping. Raising an eyebrow with a wolfish grin, she began. "OK, here's what I'd do…"

XXXX

The monotony of policing Storybrooke had grown such that a report of a two-car accident by the cannery was the highlight of her day. She arrived at the glorified fender bender to find the drivers uninjured and Michael Tillman on the scene, already prepping one car for the wrecker.

"Michael," she nodded in greeting.

"Hey, Emma," he answered, unwinding the tow cable from the wrecker arm.

The Sheriff quickly gained the information she needed for the accident report, tucked her clipboard under her arm and turned to the mechanic. "You're good to go."

Tillman had just finished securing the car to the wrecker and stalked over, an ugly snarl on his face. "Good," he spat, well inside her personal space. Anger was radiating off the man in waves, immediately raising Emma's hackles.

"You got a problem?"

"Whore," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

_"Excuse me?"_

Emma took a look at the former woodsman; his eyes were wild, his movements now predatory. What the hell?

"Are you high? What's your problem?"

Emma turned away, subtlety keying the mic on her jacket. "Leroy," she murmured. "I need you at the cannery. Now."

The Savior looked up just in time to see Tillman's fist about to connect with her jaw.

"Fuck!" she yelled, the punch landing and throwing her off balance, her clipboard clattering to the ground. Still on her feet, she staggered fully upright, boots dragging and scraping on the pavement as she struggled to regain her equilibrium. "What the fuck, man?"

"I though a sheriff's job was to police the town, not fuck the mayor," he growled, pacing around her in a semi-circle. "I'm surprised you could find the time to make it down here, I hear you're usually on your back, spreading your legs for the Evil Queen."

"What?" Emma seethed. _How does he know this?_

"You fucking whore. Your parents should be ashamed of you."

Emma's eyes were wide, incredulous as she rubbed her throbbing jaw. "What is wrong with you? And keep my family out of this."

"Why? I _respect_ them. You're the one dragging their name into the gutter with that cunt."

Leroy sped to the scene, screeched the cruiser to a halt and jumped out in a sprint, just in time to watch Emma rear back and land a roundhouse to Tillman's face. He heard the sickening crunch of breaking bone as blood spurted out of the woodsman's nostrils, staining his shirt and spraying the pavement. The mechanic reeled and fell on his ass, as Emma advanced and planted her boot in his abdomen with a vicious kick. "YOU ASSHOLE!"

"Emma! No!," Leroy yelled, pulling her back before she kicked again. "He's down. He's down. Settle down."

" _Settle down_? He called me a whore and sucker-punched me."

"Why?"

"He said…" Emma started, but decided Leroy didn't need the full story. "Whatever. He was fine when I got here, then all of a sudden he went nuts."

"Let me get you an ice pack."

Leroy headed back to his cruiser while Emma bent to pick up her clipboard, turning around when she straightened and heard a muffled, "Hey."

"Aw, fuck" was the last thing Emma thought as she saw Tillman's fist and the gleam of metal fill her vision as the blow connected and everything faded to black.

Emma dropped to the ground, dead weight, bouncing the back of her head off the pavement, knocked unconscious. Leroy rushed over, cuffed Tillman, shoved him in the cruiser, "accidentally" bouncing his head off the roof, then called an ambulance and Charming, in that order.

Blue floated, tiny and unnoticed over the scene, a smug smile of satisfaction in place. Everything went according to plan.

Across town, Gold was puttering around his shop of musty treasures when a familiar sensation rippled through the air. He could feel the flicker of dark magic being employed as easily as he could feel himself breathe. That was the second time in two months. With a curious smile he wondered, _What is Regina up to now?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued and never-ending thanks to my dear Alaska829Snow, who has beta’d every word for the better.

Regina was humming contentedly and tidying her bedroom when she paused with a grin, eyeing her rumpled sheets. Regret accompanied the realization that Emma still hadn’t been able to stay over long enough to enjoy breakfast and complete what had become a very domestic pattern.

The couple had quickly – and unwittingly - fallen into quite the familial routine. Henry would head over to the station after school, using the last hour of Emma’s shift for homework while the Sheriff tried to set the world record for consecutive trash-can free throws.

At 4 p.m., Emma would drop her legs from her desk and announce, “C’mon, kid, let’s go home.” _Home?_ She was amazed at her inadvertent choice of words, but they reflected the truth. Mifflin Street couldn’t have been more homey if it tried. She was still technically living in her parents’ loft, but these days the apartment was more of a glorified closet. Although neither asked nor answered, Mifflin Street had become home.

Mother and son would pass through the front door, which Regina unlocked before she began dinner. “Mom, we’re hooooome!” would ring out, a Pavlovian signal for Regina to emerge from the kitchen, looking pressed and perfect, right down to the half apron tied across her abdomen.

Henry would be greeted by a kiss to the crown of his head and a command of “Coat!”, while Emma removed her boots, lining them up just so on the boot tray inside the front door. The boy would bound up the stairs and out of sight, while Emma slid across the hardwood on stocking feet leaning in for a kiss and a grope, earning a giggle and a playful slap from Regina, who has been yearning for that touch all day.

They hadn’t revealed their relationship to Henry yet and reluctantly agreed they should wait. But waiting meant self-restraint until he went to bed, something at which Emma was admittedly terrible and a skill in which Regina was now quickly slipping.

_“I know I’m not supposed to use magic,” Regina huffed desperately, “but what if I soundproofed the bedroom while we were having ‘relations’?”_

_When Henry was sleeping, amorous activities were confined to the first floor, which was fun the first few times, but quickly began to lack in comfort, space and novelty._

_Emma released the brunette’s nipple from her mouth with a pop and looked up sporting a devilish grin._

_“Relations? Is this very formal, m’lady? Do I need to wear a tie?”_

_Regina pressed up with her hips, grinding her aching core against Emma’s. She attacked the area just below the blonde’s ear with an insistent tongue, her warm breath tickling the fine hairs near her neck._

_“And just what word would you prefer?” she husked in a low, sultry purr. “Hmmmm?”_

_Emma was so impossibly turned on, all she could mutter was an incoherent, “Uh…”_

_Regina’s voice lowered to a whisper, her lips so close to Emma’s ear she could feel their movement against the shell. “I think I should soundproof my bedroom while we’re…fucking.”_

_Regina disliked cursing, it was a sign of low birth and a peasant vocabulary. But she guessed – correctly – that the coarse term would arouse her girlfriend like gas on flames._

_Emma jerked suddenly and shuddered with a gasp._

_Regina pulled her head back, bemused. “Did you just?”_

_Emma nodded, a blush tearing across her face. She dropped her head, embarrassed._

_“I won’t tell him if you won’t.”_

_Regina nodded her head in agreement. “Upstairs._ Now. _”_

The pair thoroughly enjoyed Regina’s giant bed and, for the first time, allowed themselves to fall asleep cocooned in each other’s arms. Cool sheets contrasted deliciously with warm skin as they drifted off to sleep, submerged in each other, unsure where one ended and the other began.

Regina laid on what had become Emma’s side of the bed and buried her face in “her” pillow, inhaling the scent. She had never enjoyed the luxury of falling asleep with a lover, something she viewed as the ultimate act of trust and vulnerability. She never had the opportunity with Daniel. She never wanted to with the King, who always retired to his own chambers, anyway. Graham had slept in her bed, but never held her.

But with Emma, she realized what she felt: true love. Her time with The Savior was a heady mixture of feeling protected, loved and cherished while at the same time having freedom, choices and an opinion, a true equal in every way.

Regina sighed and sat up, spying the alarm that woke them up early in order to sneak Emma out before Henry got up. They hated hiding from him, but their relationship was so new and their time at the well still relatively recent, they worried he would immediately reject a declaration of the new normal.

Instead, they decided to let the boy warm up to the idea of spending drama-free time together as an unofficial family before they informed him what transpired. As much as they cared for each other, Henry was still their top priority. However, if Henry was No. 1, the women were clearly 1A.

Regina allowed herself one last smile, which developed into a chuckle as she spotted a stray sock peeking out from under the bed. She bent over to pick it up and add it to the blonde’s ever-growing laundry pile when “I Fought The Law” blared out from her pocket.

“Only you would leave here with one sock,” she teased with a smile, which quickly disintegrated into a pained grimace.

She sat once more on the edge of the bed, the sock falling from her hand.

“I’ll be right there.”

XXXX

Regina tore into the ER in a sprint, eyes frantically searching for Charming. She found him sitting stiffly in a chair in the corner, jiggling his right leg nervously.

“David!”

The prince looked up as Regina ran over, and if he had ever doubted the woman’s feelings for his daughter, he could no longer harbor any uncertainty. Her voice was strangled, her eyes wild and wet; panic-fueled desperation rolled off her in waves.

“Where is she?”

The man rose, gently grasping her forearms to halt her furious rush. “Relax, Regina, she—”

“I will not relax,” she barked, pulling her arms away. “My…” she began, searching for the right word, “my… Emma has been attacked, how on Earth could I relax?”

Charming smiled to himself. Yes, there was no doubt. He had only ever seen the brunette so distraught over Henry.

“Sit down, at least,” he asked calmly, trying to pacify her. “Let me fill you in.”

Regina regained her composure a tad and regally sank into the chair to Charming’s right, trying to call forth a mask of calm though her emotions were in riot.

“They took her for an MRI. She should be out soon.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know exactly. Emma called Leroy to an accident at the cannery. When he got there Emma had just dropped Michael Tillman. She said he attacked her, called her a…whore.”

A shudder ripped through her body as her stomach sank. _This was my fault. Again. This was such a bad idea._

“Leroy pulled Emma off him, but Tillman got up and sucker punched her with a wrench. She was knocked out; they’re worried about a fracture near her eye socket. Leroy tossed him in the cruiser, called an ambulance, then me. I grabbed her phone and called you.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment, each sobered by the events.

“Did he ever have a problem with Emma before?” Regina asked softly.

“Not that I knew. He’s a quiet guy, keeps to himself. I think she’s only run into him at accidents and stuff like that.”

Regina bent her head in an attempt to hide the tears that threatened to fall. “This is my fault.”

“Hey,” Charming soothed, reaching over and patting her forearm. _Emma wasn’t kidding, Regina really has changed_ , he thought. If the man had ever tried to touch the brunette prior to the past two months, he would have lost a hand. “Don’t blame yourself.”

Regina sniffed, digging a tissue out of her purse. “Well, who else is there to blame, David?” she fumed accusingly. “Obviously, he is taking his issues with me out on her.”

The brunette stood and began to pace the empty waiting room, nerves and guilt getting the better of her. “We’re in a town full of people who hate me. There will be a line of Tillmans queuing up to attack Emma because of me.”

Regina stopped, hugging herself in a bid to stop shaking, swallow the massive lump in her throat and accept what she had to do.

“I can’t…I can’t put her through that, this…this needs to end,” she declared, voice breaking.

David couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Prior to this, the only times he had watched the former Queen display emotion were in murderous rage, threats and accusations. It was nearly impossible to accept this was the same woman.

“Regina,” he ordered softly, “sit.”

The brunette followed his quiet command and soon found her hand enveloped in the prince’s large one.

“You know she won’t let you, right?” David chuckled, picturing Emma’s outrage at even the thought. “If you tried, she’d be on your doorstep every night until you let her back in. Most likely cursing like a sailor.”

Regina couldn’t stop a watery chuckle; he was right. David let go of Regina’s hand, patting it as he laid it on her thigh.

“I haven’t known her for very long, but I believe she’d happily get in a fistfight every day if that’s what it meant to be with you.”

“She just might have to,” Regina retorted. “She inherited that reckless persistence from you, you realize?”

“I’m glad she did. We fight for the ones we…love.”

Regina’s lips opened and a look of incredulity and wonder took over her face. “I’m surprised you’re this accepting.”

“What’s the alternative? Never seeing her again? I would never have predicted it and I didn’t see it coming, but it makes her happy, you make her happy, and in the end that’s all I want.”

“It’s all I want, too.”

David’s smile was soft and genuine. “That I know.”

Regina sniffed, dabbing at the moisture that remained. “I can’t imagine Snow shares your sentiments.”

“She doesn’t know yet.”

Regina’s eyebrows contracted in confusion. “Yes, she does. Emma told her last week.”

David’s head turned sharply, his face a mix of hurt and uncertainty. “What? Emma told me she wanted to tell her herself, but she never said she did. Mary-Margaret never said anything, why wouldn’t she?”

“I have no idea. Emma came home one night last week and said she spoke with Snow and she handled it a lot better than she expected.” Regina nearly gasped at her words, _Emma came home. Well,_ that _was telling_.

“But that was days ago, why wouldn’t Mary-Margaret say anything to me?”

“I have no idea.” This was awkward and odd – something was off. And as much as Regina would have reveled in such a situation surrounding the couple just weeks earlier, it unsettled her now and she wanted no part of it.

Desperate to change the subject, she offered a small smile. “So is this where you warn me not to hurt your daughter?”

David sighed. “All I know is she’s happier than I’ve ever seen her. All she’s ever wanted is a family and now she has Henry…and you. Just don’t do anything stupid like trying to break up with her to protect her. She can handle herself. ”

The prince exhaled heavily and ran a hand over his face. Worry about his daughter and now anxiety over his wife’s concealment was taking root. “As for Mary-Margaret…” He paused, searching for words. “That’s going to take some time. She will be upset, but I’m sure she’ll get there.”

“Your family is nothing if not relentlessly optimistic.” He agreed with a chuckle.

The prince paused and met Regina’s eyes with a serious expression. “If anyone tries to give you trouble, you let me know. I used to be pretty good with a sword.”

A small smirk turned the brunette’s lips up at one corner. “You had your moments.”

XXXX

Snow walked warily into Gold’s shop, the jangling bells on the door betraying her arrival. The stuffy emporium, like its owner, gave her the creeps and if she weren’t so desperate, she wouldn’t have darkened its door otherwise. However, the thought of Emma and Regina’s relationship was haunting her relentlessly. She hated Blue’s game plan of waiting and patience and was hoping the wizard could offer her another path.

“Your Majesty, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It’s Snow or Mary-Margaret. And I need your help.”

“Do you now?” Gold braced his arms behind his counter, reveling in his newfound position of power.

“Don’t play with me. I need to know if Regina put a spell on Emma.”

The imp smiled sickeningly, this was too good to be true. A chill ran down Snow’s spine at the obvious joy her words evoked.

“You don’t say,” he snickered. “What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

Gold brought his hand to his chin as if to ponder his answer, but it was just for show; he knew his request immediately.

“I want you to reopen and fund the library and appoint Belle head librarian.”

Snow paused for a second at best. “Done.”

“So, you think the Evil Queen put a spell on The Savior?” Gold announced dramatically, faux concern tinting his statement.

“Possibly.”

“Why?”

“Because Emma is _dating_ her,” Snow spat. “She…she has feelings for her.”

His high-pitched giggle erupted through the dusty storefront, earning a scowl from his visitor. _This keeps getting better and better._

“Well, I can’t say if Miss Swan has been cursed without seeing her, but I can say I have felt dark magic being used.”

“When?” Gold stepped out from behind the counter, his cane landing in dull thuds as he limped across to face his visitor.

“Several weeks ago,” he noted dreamily, idly fingering the unicorn mobile as he passed. “And today.”

“Today! Where?”

“Somewhere in town, I can’t be more precise than that. But you know you cannot use magic to make someone fall in love.”

The brunette was undeterred. “There has to be some explanation behind this…relationship.”

“I take it you don’t approve.”

Snow raised an eyebrow above her glare.

“Of course. Well, there _may_ be ways around it, and if anyone in town could find it, Regina could. But why?”

“To torture me, obviously. But you do know dark magic was being used.”

“Yes, and not by me.”

“Can anyone else in this town use dark magic?”

“The possible practitioners in this town are Regina and I,” he lectured in a professorial tone. “Someone could be experimenting with our…area of expertise, but what I sensed was far too skilled and strong.”

“And you’re telling the truth.”

The shopkeeper’s response was immediate and matter of fact. “I gain nothing by lying to you about this.”

As much as she knew Gold to be untrustworthy and dangerous, his body language and tone all pointed to the opposite. “Why don’t you simply confront Regina yourself?”

The man giggled heartily at his own question, as Snow stormed from the shop, slamming the door in her wake.

XXXX

_“Oh God,” Emma groaned, bare legs entangled with Regina’s as they rocked in unison. “Uh, huh, baby, that’s it, that’s…”_

_Sexes melded together in tight, wet heat, the pair bucked franticly, arms wrapped tightly around each other, desperate for release._

_Regina scolded through panted breath. “Do…not…infantilize…me.”_

_“Seriously?” Emma wheezed, adjusting her angle slightly, which produced a gasp and a guttural moan from below. “We’re having this discussion now?”_

_The blonde had a mind to stop but she was close, so close, her straining, frenzied need for release outweighing her desire to teach the brunette a lesson. Emma dropped her mouth to her lover’s neck and began laving it with her tongue, a move against which she had learned the brunette was defenseless._

_“Em….Em…Emma!” Regina drew out the last vowel in a desperate cry, so sultry it pushed Emma over the edge a few seconds later. The blonde collapsed on top of the petite woman with a throaty howl, both shuddering every few seconds with delicious aftershocks of pleasure._

_“I can’t believe…” She stopped to calm her breathing. “I can’t believe you told me off while I was giving you a mind-blowing orgasm.”_

_Regina turned her head and kissed a mop of sex-mussed curls. “Technically, it was just before.”_

_Emma snorted, rolling off her partner to lie beside her. She reached for Regina’s hand and kissed her knuckles._

_“I should tell you right now I don’t like terms of endearment,” Regina announced._

_“Seriously? None? Honey?”_

_“No.”_

_“Pookie?”_

_“Please.”_

_“Muffin?”_

_“Now you’re just mocking me.”_

_Emma paused. She needed something aside from “Regina” and “Madam Mayor,” which technically wasn’t even accurate anymore. There was “Your Majesty” and “My Queen”, but she wasn’t sure if Regina would find those adoring or a painful reminder of a life she was trying to leave behind._

_“What about sweetheart?”_

_Regina tilted her head a touch, a small smile on her lips. “I’ll consider it.”_

_“Ha!” Emma cheered in victory, peppering her lover’s face with kisses._

Regina was holding Emma’s hand and futilely trying to read a book in an uncomfortable bedside chair when she heard a soft chuckle accompanied by “Sweetheart…”

She gasped softly and turned just in time to see a small grin on Emma’s face, pale eyelids fluttering and stretching, deep green coming into view at last.

“Emma,” she breathed in relief.

“Hey,” the blonde smiled sleepily, trying to lift suddenly heavy lids. “What happened?”

“Oh…” Choked sobs interrupted her greeting as she leaned over and carefully tucked her head into the crook of Emma’s neck, elegant fingers stroking her hair. Emma lifted her non-IV-saddled hand and wound it around Regina’s shaking torso in a one-armed hug.

“Hey, I’m OK,” she soothed, patting Regina on the back. “Aren’t you supposed to be comforting me?” she chuckled sluggishly.

Regina pulled back and sat, sniffing and wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. Emma was not OK. Tillman’s hand had left part of her nose and all of her right eye deeply bruised and swollen shut, angry red already deepening into dark purple; a split in her forehead was glued and secured behind a bandage where his wrench snagged her skin. Whale admitted had no idea how her nose was unbroken nor her eye socket shattered.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.”

“No, no, I’m kidding.” Emma tried to push herself into a better sitting position with one hand. “What happened?”

“Don’t you remember?”

Emma thought back through the drugs and haze: Tillman. She puffed out a slow exhale. “Yeah, I do. How bad?”

Regina brought her chair so close it was touching the bed and pulled Emma’s free hand into her own. “You’ve been unconscious for,” she spied the clock on the wall, “6 hours. You have a Grade III concussion. Whale isn’t sure if it’s more from the back of your head hitting the pavement when you collapsed or from punch he threw. The MRI showed no brain swelling or fluid. You’ll have to stay overnight for observation.”

Emma brought her other hand to her forehead, feeling the pain, throb and, finally, the bandage. “And this?”

“He was holding a wrench.”

“He punched me with a wrench? _Asshole_.” Emma felt around the bandage gently. “Can I have some water?”

Regina grabbed the pitcher on the rolling bedside table, poured a glass, popped in a straw and handed it over. “Where’s Henry?” she asked between lusty sips, eyeing bright streetlights outside the window.

“With your father…and mother.”

“Oh my God, were they here? Did they see you? What—”

“David called me. I met him here. After we got your MRI results, I picked Henry up from school and we went home. He got your mother at their apartment and brought her here. He called me when they were leaving, so I came back, met him in the parking lot and Henry went home with them. He wanted to see you, but I didn't think it was a good idea, at least tonight. And I didn't want to see Snow."

"Makes sense. I'm sure my eye's going to look like puke for weeks, but at least he won't think I won't wake up."

Emma smirked, stopping mid-slurp.

"What?"

"You and David make quite the team. When did you get so chummy?"

Regina startled slightly, realizing how her opinion of the man had already changed.

"He was very kind to me today. And I believe he understood no good would come of Snow and I battling over your hospital bed, especially in front of Henry."

Emma reached the bottom of the cup with a loud slurp. “Wow, that was good. Um, yeah, we can do without my mother right now, I think.”

“I asked David to keep Henry for the night. He knows you’re alright, he’s best with them at the moment.”

Basics out of the way, Regina’s nerves were set ablaze. She had to ask the question that had been gnawing at her for hours, one to which she did not want to hear the answer. Her voice was somber, yet tentative, as she leaned forward grabbing her lover’s gaze. “Why did Tillman attack you?”

Emma’s expression, a millisecond earlier one of complete nonchalance, swiftly shifted into a grimace. Her eyes bristled with hurt, not for her condition, but for the fact she knew the answer would gut her girlfriend.

“Uh, I don’t remember.”

“Don’t lie to me, Emma,” she pled softly. “Please.”

The blonde exhaled, her chest tight with hurt. “He knew about us and had an issue with it.”

“What did he say?”

Emma hesitated, looking down at their joined hands.

“He called me a whore and said I was bringing shame on my family.” She hoped paraphrasing would suffice, direct quotes would only cause deeper hurt.

Regina let go of Emma, cradling her head in her hands. “This is all my fault,” she whispered sadly.

“No, no, this is _not_.” Emma used her free hand to push up and sit higher in the bed, but the sudden movement made her woozy, causing her to lay back.

“It is. His problem with you is me. This town is full of people who hate me. You’ll be getting into fisticuffs on a daily basis. They’ll hurt you to hurt me.”

The grave mood in the room was broken in an instant as Emma burst out laughing. She laughed so hard her stomach began to hurt. “My stomach,” she giggled. Tears streaming down her face she leaned forward to ease the stomach cramp, only to aggravate her dizziness. “Owww.”

“What is so funny?”

“Well,” she began, chuckles still sneaking out. “I can’t find a comfortable position to laugh in. But ‘fisticuffs’? Oh, God, I love you, don’t ever, ever change.”

Through the moisture Emma saw shock pass over Regina’s face and heard her catch her breath.

“I _do_ love you, you know. I do. More than anything. And I’m not saying that because I am possibly super high and got hit with a hammer.”

“A wrench.”

“Whatever, see only you would correct me when I’m trying to tell you I love you. I do, sweetheart, I truly do. I had plans to tell you in a much more romantic setting than this,” she noted, gesturing around the room, “but, fuck it, I don’t care. I love you.”

“And only you would combine base profanity with a declaration of love.”

“See, we’re perfect for one another. Get up here.” Emma patted the side of the narrow bed, scooting over to entice her partner. Regina approached it warily, gently easing in, arms at her sides. The minute the brunette was situated, Emma burrowed into her lover’s side.

“This can’t be very comfortable for you.”

“I don’t care,” she hummed. “You smell good. You’re warm and soft. And snuggly.”

Regina scoffed. “You’re obviously on powerful medication.”

Emma tightened her grip across her lover’s midsection and began stroking her hand up and down her side. “I love you, Regina Mills. I would take a beating for you every day if that meant we could be together.”

“That’s just it, I don’t _want_ you to have to defend yourself daily because of me. I can’t bear the thought of you hurt, especially on my account.”

“Listen, I think you’re overreacting. That was just Tillman, you messed with his kids. You’d go insane if you were in his place, too. So other than him and, like, Jefferson, I think we may be in the clear.”

Emma turned her head just enough so she could place an open-mouthed kiss on Regina’s neck. “I am the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming,” she announced formally through closed eyes. “No one is going to mess with me. _And_ I am the mother of the second in line to the throne.”

“Look at you, up on your rules of succession. But there is no ‘throne’ over here.”

“I know, but these idiots seem to take that shit seriously.” Emma adjusted her angle, giving her just enough room to suck on Regina’s neck.

“Also, you might want to refrain from calling your subjects ‘idiots’.”

Emma clumsily snaked her free hand underneath Regina’s blazer and began trying, unsuccessfully, to unbutton her shirt.

“Whatever. Can you take this off? I want to get closer to you.”

“We’re in the hospital, dear,” she chuckled at her apparently high, definitely horny, girlfriend. “It’s not exactly private.”

“We can shut the door.”

“Yes, but we can’t lock it. Do you want Whale to barge in? Your mother?”

“Eww, no,” Emma protested, yet she continued to fondle her girlfriend’s chest.

“You’re injured, and look at you, you only have one hand,” she noted, nodding at Emma’s IV-laden right hand, which was straining against the length of its tubes as she tried to massage Regina’s nipple over her bra.

“I only need one hand,” she chuckled dirtily. “Orgasms are supposed to have health benefits. I read that in Cosmo. It’d be _wrong_ for you not to help me.”

“As persuasive as your argument is, let’s wait until we get home.” _There it was again,_ Regina thought, _home_.

“But that’s tomorrow,” Emma whined. “Do you know what I was thinking about just before I came to?” She slid her hand down Regina’s abdomen, lightly skirting her fingers over her groin. “The night I gave you a nickname.”

Regina blushed hotly, then smiled. “That was amazing but,” she began removing Emma’s hand from her groin, “we can’t continue. I’ll stay with you tonight, but I won’t sleep in this bed. You’ll molest me as I sleep.”

Emma laughed, “I totally would.” Regina began to move her legs off the bed, only to have Emma stop her, “Wait, would you give me one good kiss? Just one? I’ll be good for the rest of the night.”

Regina swung her legs back in the bed, straddling Emma and leaning over to grant her wish. Emma had just started to enthusiastically french Regina and grab a handful of ass when a quick knock was followed by an opening door.

“Hey, you free?” Leroy waltzed in looking at his phone, stopping short when he glanced up and found the former Evil Queen mounting The Savior. “Shit, sorry.”

Emma snorted. “Do I look busy?” Regina climbed off Emma – and the bed – mortified, arching her eyebrow at her love. _I warned you._

“I gotta take your statement. Your Dad thought it was best, him being related and all.”

Emma nodded as Regina brushed past the deputy, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’ll be in the cafeteria.”

Leroy pulled a chair up to her bedside, cleared his throat and pulled out a pen and notebook.

“So, alright,” he started, leaning forward, “tell me how this clusterfuck went down.”

Emma laughed at the dwarf’s unique phrasing, wondering if he meant she and Regina or Tillman. She figured the latter and spent 10 minutes detailing what happened before he arrived on the scene, including the quotes she spared Regina.

“So he was fine when you first got there?”

“Completely normal.”

“And then he just snapped when you were done?”

“Yup. He really hit me with a wrench?”

Leroy nodded, raising his eyebrows.

“That fucker, he could have killed me.”

“No shit. He _sustained a head injury_ upon entering the cruiser,” he noted wryly. “Resisting arrest. He bumped his head.”

“Ah ha.”

Leroy closed his notebook, exhaled and stood.

“I’m glad you’re alright, sister.”

“Thanks.” Leroy didn’t move. “Yeah?”

“So, um, you and the Queen?” He looked unsure what to say next.

“She’s just Regina, but, yeah.”

“Is she treating you right?”

“She is.”

“It looked like she was.”

“Fuck off,” Emma laughed.

“If she doesn’t, you tell me, OK?”

Emma was touched at the miner’s gesture. If he had to go up against Regina in Evil Queen mode, he’d have a worse chance than Pongo, which is why she was more moved than she could express.

“I will, promise.”

“I, uh, don’t get it, you know. Did you know she tried to kill me once? Choked me from 25 yards away.”

“I don’t know what to say, man. I’m sorry? I figure she tried to kill pretty much everyone I care about at one point or another back in the day. It doesn’t make anything she did back then OK, but she is different now. She’s not using magic.”

Leroy blushed at being included in Emma’s “cared about” group. He ducked his head to try and hide his flushed face, adjusting the cap on his head.

“Yeah, well. I don’t get it, but I trust your judgment. You’re smart and you’re tough. If I hear anyone giving you two shit, they’ll have to deal with me and the business end of a pick-axe.”

“Don’t get yourself into trouble on our account, but I appreciate the support. I do.”

Leroy left her room as Emma leaned back gingerly against the bed. If an angry dwarf from the old land could somewhat come around on the concept of The Savior and the Evil Queen, maybe there was hope for this stupid town yet.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the updating delay. Episodes 3x09 and 3x10 attacked me with two story ideas (Return and Regret, and Drink, Dare & Dial, respectively) that completely consumed my writing time for two weeks, thus pushing this update out further than I liked. Continued thanks to Alaska829Snow, a dear friend and a fantastic beta – quite the combination.

“Are you _sure_ you’re fine?”

Emma smiled across the table at her love, whose brow was furrowed in equal parts concern and suspicion, brown eyes assessing her warily.

“I’m OK to go back to work.” Eyes bright, Emma speared a last forkful of omelet, chewed, swallowed and grinned. “I swear.”

The Sheriff had taken 7 days off from work after being discharged from the hospital. Whale said she could return after 3, Emma felt ready by 5 but Regina had demanded – and got - 7.

“You have a very physically difficult job. You could get hurt again.”

Although Regina’s hands were hidden from view beneath the kitchen table, Emma would bet anything she was grasping and kneading her fingers in worry, she could see the subtle movements in her wrists.

“Only if Brickmaker’s cow kicks me when he calls bitching about a bum deal trading for goats or some other bullshit these people seemed obsessed with.”

“Livestock was valuable currency in the other realm.”

“Yeah, well, get with the times. Besides, me getting jacked had nothing to do with the job, other than we were in the same place. He could have just as easily jumped me outside Granny’s.”

Painful memories twisted the brunette’s face into a grimace. “Don’t remind me.”

Regina didn’t need a memory aid, Emma’s right eye and the bridge of her nose still vividly told the tale. Both were now a thoroughly disgusting mix of yellow-brown and green. She had begged Emma to let her heal them magically, but the blonde refused. “I want everyone to see what he did,” she affirmed. “I want them all to know.”

As she listened to Henry thump around upstairs preparing for school, Emma rose, walked around the table and plopped herself across her lover’s lap. Smiling at Regina’s faux disgust at her lack of grace and abundance of temerity, Emma wove her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders and leaned in for a gentle kiss.

“I won’t get hurt,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against Regina’s. “I have too much to come home to.”

Although she was officially still a guest in the house, at least according to their son, Regina considered the former orphan a permanent resident, something she had not shared with nor officially asked the woman in question. After the assault, she stated in no uncertain terms that Emma would be recuperating at Mifflin Street. Her arguments were prepared: she had more space and could give the woman 24-7 care. But she didn’t need them after all.

_When Emma informed her father she was going to Regina’s after discharge, the prince didn’t bat an eye. He simply turned on his heel without a word and left the hospital room. Regina and Emma barely had time to share a worried glance before he immediately returned with a large duffel bag and a broad smile. “I figured you’d need some of your stuff.”_

_“Thanks, Dad,” Emma grinned. Regina, unused to an ally, looked like she was about tear up at the gesture. “Thank you, David,” she added shyly._

_The couple retreated to Mifflin Street, much to the delight of their son. The boy was shocked when he heard Emma had been attacked, but soon elated that Regina would nurse his biological mother back to health._

_“Mom’s really good at taking care of me when I’m sick,” he bragged, insisting he shoulder her bag up to the guest room. “Maybe she’ll make soup.” Emma smiled at his innocence._

_For his part, Henry was sure the blonde could help him protect the house from any potential assailants. “They won’t get by us,” he boasted naively, as Regina looked on so full of adoration she feared her heart might burst._

_The patient officially – and reluctantly - took up residence in the guest room. As much as Emma disliked sleeping alone with the object of her desire just across the hall, she hated hiding the true nature of their relationship from their son even more. Regina argued they should tell him the truth, but Emma maintained the timing was wrong._

_“We told Henry I was attacked because we were friends,” she maintained. “What if we tell him we’re a couple? He’ll think I’ll get killed or you’ll get attacked his time. Let’s wait, just another week.”_

_The pair kept their_ _relationship secret and their hands to themselves until the minute the boy stepped on the school bus, when Emma all but darted into Regina’s giant, insanely comfortable bed, soon trailed by the owner herself._

_Emma adored Regina’s full-on Mama Bear mode, fussed over and attended to hand and foot. Regina Mills didn’t love many people, but when she did, she did it with all her might. Emma soaked up the affection, attention and love like a dry sponge dipped in water._

_For the first time in her life, the woman felt safe, wanted, cherished and love – four adjectives in short supply throughout the previous 29 years. She couldn’t figure out why Henry would ever believe his mother didn’t love him when it was so damn evident, but she realized perhaps he had come to take it for granted. He was always the center of her world, he knew nothing else. Emma had never made it past anyone’s periphery._

_The week was halcyon - it was a hell of a way to get alone time, but they’d make the best of it. The women had 7 hours a day just to themselves, except when Snow stopped over to check in on her daughter. To her credit, she would always call ahead, which allowed Regina a chance to depart. She hated being driven from her home and her lover by Snow. She knew she would have to eventually learn to at least tolerate the woman’s presence - just not right now._

Regina ran her hands through Emma’s shock of hair.

“I’ll tell you what,” the blonde breathed in her girlfriend’s ear. “I promise to come home safe and I’ll let you brush my hair tonight.”

Regina choked out a giggle. “You’ll let me?”

_Emma had been plagued by off and on headaches from the assault. She would try to sleep them off, snug in the brunette’s arms, but it didn’t always work. Until one day, Nurse Mills came up with a plan._

_Grabbing the chair from her vanity, Regina placed it at the end of her bed. “Sit on this, backwards.”_

_Emma smirked. “Reverse cowgirl, huh?”_

_“Hush, you naughty girl,” she scolded lightly. “Sit.”_

_Emma grinned triumphant and sat as commanded. Regina perched on the edge of the bed behind her and began slowly sweeping a boar-bristled paddle brush through her long, lush hair._

_“Uhhh,” Emma sighed in contented bliss. “This may be better than reverse cowgirl.”_

_Regina gently combed through the thick curls pass after pass, the blonde going boneless under the soothing touch._

_“Did you ever have long hair?”_

_“Mmmm,” she affirmed. “In the old land, about your length, maybe a little longer.”_

_“Why didn’t you keep it?”_

_“I had handmaidens to do my hair back then. It would have been too much to do on my own and I wasn’t fond of letting it just hang loose, like you.”_

_Emma snorted. “Are you insinuating something, Your Worship?”_

_“First, that title is for a cleric, which I am most definitely not. And, no. I had a lot of hair, I didn’t enjoy it in my face all the time and putting it in a braid day after day would have proved tiresome - and rather informal for a mayor.”_

_“Well, if you want to grow it out again, I would help you with it anytime.”_

_“That’s sweet, dear, thank you.”_

_“I can make an awesome side pony.”_

_Regina snorted despite her best effort. “You are so fresh.”_

“Yes, I would generously let you brush me into a hypnotic state, solely for your benefit.”

“You’re incredibly unselfish.” Regina nuzzled her nose into Emma’s cheek.

“I’m a giver.” Emma drew Regina’s lips to her own for a thorough kiss, which ended up being the last of the morning as they heard Henry hit the landing.

The Savior reluctantly pulled away, sneaking one more peck onto the tip of Regina’s nose before she smoothly hopped off her lap, grabbed her breakfast plate and bussed it to the sink as the boy entered the kitchen.

“I’m hungry,” he declared, impudently.

“Polite kid you got there, Regina,” Emma grinned, loading the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher.

“Those are clearly Charming genes.”

Breakfast soon completed, Regina tried to hide her sadness as she ushered her son and her girlfriend out the front door, each with lunch in hand.

“There better be chocolate in this bag, lady,” Emma warned. “Whale prescribed me chocolate daily.”

“That ‘prescription’ was written on a napkin. And I’m certain his first name is not ‘I’m Kinda Pervy’, plus I have no idea how much 50 ccs of chocolate would be.”

_“A lot.”_

“Feel free to argue your case to the pharmacy.”

Henry was nearly out of sight when Emma leaned in. “I really want to kiss you.”

“I know,” Regina sighed. “Tonight, I promise. After I beg you to let me brush your hair.”

Emma squeezed Regina’s arm and headed down the walkway. If she didn’t let go of the woman now, she would never get to work.

Regina had no problem physically expressing her love, but a lifetime of never hearing or stating I love you to another person - save for Daniel and Henry - left her gun-shy when it came to casually voicing her feelings.

She fought her first instinct to let Emma walk away and called out after her.

“Emma!” The blonde spun at Regina’s quiet exclamation, concern flaring at the slightly panicked tone.

Each walked halfway to the other, Regina grabbing Emma’s forearms and leaning in.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I never want you to go to work again without knowing that.”

Emma cast a glance over her shoulder; Henry was in the Bug, head in a book. She closed the gap between them, gently pressed her lips to Regina’s and gazed at her, green eyes brimming with passionate devotion.

“You are my everything,” she swore lovingly. “I will see you tonight.”

XXXX

The Sheriff returned to the station, surprised to find her father behind his desk.

“Since when are you on nights?”

David looked up guiltily, quickly averting his eyes to a pile of papers. “Just wanted a change.”

Emma tossed her lunch in the mini-fridge by her desk and sat, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re lying. You know my sup—”

“—has been known to fail.” The prince met his daughter’s eyes, one corner of his lips turning up, begrudgingly. “Although in this case, you’re correct.”

Leaning forward, David clapped his two hands together and held them, as if bracing for the words to follow. “Your mom and I had a disagreement.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide, her lips parting as she sucked in a quick breath. “Is it because of—”

“You have _nothing_ to do with this,” he insisted firmly. “It’s between your mother and I.”

_Henry had finally fallen asleep, repeatedly assured by his grandparents that Emma would be fine, when David quietly slipped from the bedroom and found his wife on the couch. It had been a long, harrowing day – the accident scene, the hospital and now comforting Henry. All he wanted to do was drag himself into bed, but the unrest clawing at the pit of his stomach demanded resolution._

_David was a peaceful man, a shepherd. He hated conflict, but disliked the fact Snow may have not been truthful more. He joined his wife on the couch._

_“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” he asked, a mixture of anger, pain and sorrow._

_“What?” Snow narrowed her eyes at his tone. “What are you talking about?”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me Emma talked with you? That she told you she and Regina were together.”_

_“I—”_

_The brunette’s eyes widened as she recalled Blue’s counsel on Thanksgiving. “Do not burden James with this,” the fairy advised smoothly. “I’m sure Emma will realize the folly of her ways soon enough. She and Regina will part ways quickly; why embarrass Emma in the eyes of her father?” She smiled confidently and patted Snow’s hand. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”_

_Snow sighed, backed into a corner, and continued. “Blue said I shouldn’t tell you.”_

_“Blue?” David raised his voice, only to drop it again when he remembered Henry was sleeping in the other room. “You talked to_ Blue _instead of me?”_

_“It was Thanksgiving, she was there and saw I was hurting so badly and…and I found out from her. I had no idea, but she saw the pain I was in and tried to help me.”_

_David shook his head in confusion, his wife’s argument baffling. “How did she know?”_

_“She saw them around town.” Technically it was true, she saw pictures of them around town, pictures that she commissioned in the interest of the town’s defense, Snow justified._

_“So she told you and then told you not to tell me?”_

_“Yes.” Snow could barely look her husband in the eye, a combination of panic and guilt keeping her head low._

_“Why?”_

_“She thought it would upset you unnecessarily, that they would break up quickly. If you didn’t know, Emma wouldn’t be embarrassed about it and you wouldn’t experience the pain it has caused me.”_

_“But I’m her father –_ and your husband. _”_

_“I didn’t want you to suffer,” she defended, her words thick with remorse._

_David rested his elbows on his thighs and held his head in his hands. This was asinine._

_“Why would you listen to_ her _? How could you place her over me?”_

_Snow bit her lip in frustration. David didn’t understand where she was coming from at all._

_“Blue has always been there for me,” she argued, annoyance flashing at his inability to follow her argument. “She has never steered me wrong, not when I was a child, not when I was fighting for a kingdom and not when I was a lonely schoolteacher in Storybrooke, Maine. Why_ wouldn’t _I trust her?”_

_“Because I’m your husband!” David snapped in disgust. “And Emma is our daughter and we are a team. We handle problems together.”_

_“I was trying to spare you!” she hissed, frustration spiking._

_“Marriage is not sparing your spouse from pain, it’s handling it together. Trusting one another.” David rose, walked across the room, grabbed his coat off the hook and paused at the open door. “When you can trust me again, I’ll be at the station.”_

Emma looked stricken and quite unconvinced. “Listen, this happens,” he soothed. “Couples argue, disagree, make up. It’s completely normal.”

“I don’t think anything about our lives is normal.”

David shrugged his shoulders and kicked his feet up on the desk. “You know, all of us are adjusting to this new…life. Your mother has a big heart and she loves you with all of it. But she and Regina have a history that couldn’t get more complicated if they tried. It’s going to take some time, but she’ll get there.” He added with a grin and a quiet conspiratorial whisper: “We’ll drag her.”

Emma smirked with a nod. “Are you and Mary-Margaret OK now? Every time she came over to visit, I had no idea anything was wrong.”

“We’re getting there. We’re talking, it’ll take a while, but that’s just part of marriage.” David swung his legs off the desk and headed to the coffee machine with his travel mug.

“How’s Regina?”

Emma gaped, unsure how he made the jump from marriage to Regina so quickly, and tried to swallow her surprise.

“What?” Too late.

“It’s just weird, you know. Us talking like this,” Emma covered. “But, she’s good. She’s taken really good care of me. You’d approve.”

“I do, you know.” He chuckled, sitting on the edge of Emma’s desk. He spoke so sincerely, Emma was transfixed by his words. “I never would have expected it, but when I saw her at the hospital, I knew.”

The words were so effortless, so natural, Emma barely felt them leave her mouth.

“I love you, Dad.” She ducked her head, embarrassed by her rush of emotion. David smiled, kissed her forehead and grabbed her in a bear hug.

“I’m so lucky to have you as a daughter.”

“Luck isn’t the right word to describe our family.”

“Well, I don’t care. But, you’re right.” He thought for a second and grinned. “Blessed. I’m blessed.”

After one last tight squeeze, David released her, shrugged on his coat and grabbed his coffee.

“Now, I’m going to stop by the florist on the way home, send a peace offering to your Mom at school and then sleep.”

Emma blew out a low whistle. “Wow, look at you.”

“Can’t help it, it’s all in the name,” he boasted over his shoulder as he walked down the hallway, raising his mug in the air. “ _Your_ name, too.”

Emma leaned back in her chair and let her mind wander. _My name, too...Shit!_

She opened the top drawer of her desk and exhaled, relieved to find her notebook still in place and untouched, under a pile of unprocessed traffic tickets. She didn’t need Leroy poking around her romantic musings to her girlfriend; thank god he avoided paperwork like the plague.

The call about the accident at the cannery had interrupted some very intense courting homework more than a week earlier. No time like the present, she thought, hoping Storybrooke could keep its shit together for an hour or so while she finished this up.

XXXX

The following day, Regina opened her door to find a dozen red roses and a pair of legs. She turned to get her purse for a tip, only to find the flowers on her doorstep and the legs – and their owner – gone when she returned. Many were clearly still uncomfortable in her presence. Accompanying the vase at her feet was a cream-colored envelope bearing her name.

The former queen lifted the vase and grabbed the card, depositing the roses on the table in the foyer. She unfolded the note card to see familiar handwriting, covering seemingly all sides and every inch. Before reading any further she headed for the parlor and took a seat, figuring she’d need one. She was right.

_Dear Regina,_

_I did some research and found out that if you were attracted to a woman in your land, you would ask to court them. And one way to do that was through poetry._

_I think you know I’m no poet, but I’ll try, for you:_

_Roses are red_  
 _Violets are blue_  
 _The Sheriff is smokin’_  
 _The Ex-Mayor is, too_

_That’s all I could come up with and, while true, it doesn’t communicate what I want to tell you._

_I love you. I think about you all day. I wonder what you’re doing, where you are, how you’re feeling, what you’re eating. And, I admit, I wonder what you’re wearing because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen._

_I wonder if you’re happy. And the more I think about it, the more I realize I want to be the one to make you happy. If you have a problem, I want to help you solve it. If you have a bad day, I want to make it better. If you had a great day, I want to celebrate with you. If you’re sad, I want to make you happy. You deserve to be happy, Regina. You deserve to be loved. I hope you know that._

As Regina turned over the card to continue reading, her eyes filled with tears.

_I don’t have a great way with words, but I do with people. And I want to be great with you. I want to be great for you. I know we’re doing this backwards. First we have a kid together. Then we have sex. Then I tell you I love you. And now I’m pretty much living with you. (By the way, is that OK?) All this and I haven’t even taken you out on a proper date. But I want to do this right because I love you and you deserve it. You deserve to be treated with respect, love and dignity._

_I didn’t ask to feel this way. But I’ve been through enough in the past couple of years to know that if the universe is pointing you in a direction, you follow where it leads. Believe me, it would be easier for me if I had feelings for any other person in this town (Leroy included) as this will kill my mother._

Emma was right about that. Yet another reason to date The Savior. Regina stopped to choke out a watery laugh, then sniffled, pausing her reading long enough to wipe her eyes and dry her tears, some of which landed on the paper, causing a few words to bleed into each other.

_This is the riskiest thing I’ve ever done. Not the dragon, battling an ogre, facing your mother or crawling out of a well. No matter how this turns out just know I will always be your friend. I will always love you for saving my son, saving my life and caring about me in a way I’ve always dreamed out. I will always love you for raising our son into a wonderful person. And I will always take you out for ice cream._

_I love you,_  
 _Emma_

Regina exhaled shakily, refolded the card and returned it to the envelope. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her in her entire life. Her chest felt warm and tight and her cheeks were hot with affection as she reached for her coat and keys.

XXXX

Emma was playing on her phone at the station, killing time, but the time was killing her. She had already called Belle to confirm the flowers and note were delivered (they were) and that Regina was home (she was). The suspense was driving her crazy. _Would she call? Would she stop by? Would she ambush me when I walked through the front door?_

The blonde was soon shaken out of her reverie when she heard the tell-tale clicking of Regina’s heels approaching. A heady mix of excitement and nerves raced through her body. _Look casual._ She tried to force her face into nonchalance, but figured she looked as if she was about to throw up.

Emma pretended to be doing paperwork, glancing up only when Regina’s heels were silenced and she heard her name.

“Emma.”

The Sheriff looked up to find the brunette in her overcoat and the same short-sleeved grey dress the woman wore when Emma arrived on her doorstep. She could never forget that dress. Emma uttered the same, tentative, “Hi” she had two years ago.

“Thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.” The booming, authoritative voice that commanded armies and magic sounded tentative and small.

“You’re welcome.”

“I read your note.” Regina rehearsed a dozen smart-ass remarks on the way over, but each died on her tongue when faced with the wide-eyed vulnerability in front of her.

“I would love to be courted by you.” She broke into the largest loving smile Emma had ever seen, prompting the blonde to vault over the edge of her desk and grab her in a crushing hug.

Regina threaded her hands behind Emma’s neck, tucking her head into her shoulder. Emma’s chin rested on the brunette’s silky hair, as she snaked her arms up her back. _My God, she’s so tiny._ The realization always surprised her.

Pulling out of the hug, the former Evil Queen met The Savior’s lips with a kiss, one that started off innocently and quickly accelerated into insistent tongues (Regina) and handfuls of ass (Emma).

The brunette pulled back reluctantly, her girlfriend whining at the loss of contact.

“I have something for you.”

Reaching for her purse, she pulled out a small rectangular box and placed it in Emma’s hands, covering them with her own. “I love you,” she sighed. “Would you move in with Henry and me?”

It was the first time Emma had ever been asked to stay with someone who loved her. As a foster child her homes were dictated by availability, not affection. She was a check to most foster parents, nothing more. Her prison cell was mandatory, not optional, and when she moved in with Mary-Margaret, she barely knew the woman.

Regina - this improbable, once-impossible, woman - was the first person to request her presence out of love, not obligation nor opportunity.

“Yes,” she breathed, blinking, her eyes starting to cloud with tears.

Regina’s long, elegant fingers pulled the lid off the red box to reveal a silver key. “I stopped at the hardware store,” she smiled. “This comes with only one condition: We have to tell Henry.”

“Definitely,” she agreed, clearing her throat, which was suddenly very tight. “But not tonight.”

Regina tilted her head, bemused.

“I really want to take you on a date tonight. How about he goes to my folks’? Mary-Margaret’s been asking when he could stay over.”

Regina nodded her head. “Fine, but tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Emma repeated dutifully. “But tonight he’s staying over. Which means we have the house to ourselves,” she growled, returning her hands to Regina’s posterior. She captured the brunette’s lips once more in a searing kiss, backing her up slowly until they gently bumped into the cell bars.

“Wanna go make out in the cell?”

XXXX

Much to Emma’s dismay, Regina declined the cell offer, instead heading home to pack Henry’s bag while the Emma set up the details with David. He and Snow were always happy to have the boy, who David hoped might act as a natural buffer and help speed the repair of their recent rift.

After a week of tears and tension, life was looking up for Snow White. She and David were taking baby steps toward each other, healing that was hastened by the delivery of flowers the day before and the man’s announcement that he was switching back to second shift with Emma back to work.

Now her husband called again with good news, the second time in two days: Henry would be staying overnight. On the way home she stopped at the grocery store, determined to grab some cake mix. Tonight called for a celebration.

She turned a corner and nearly ran her cart into Blue, Nova and Therevara, who were filling their cart with groceries.

“Blue,” Snow laughed. “I didn’t know you did the shopping.”

“I usually don’t, but I felt the need to get out and socialize a bit today,” she smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

The fairy gestured for the nuns to continue shopping while she held Snow’s elbow and discretely pulled her aside.

“How are you doing?”

“Much better now.”

“How is Emma, is she…?”

“She’s back to work. Her headaches have stopped.” She paused, still having a hard time stating some facts out loud. “She is still at Regina’s.”

“I see,” the nun dipped her head, solemnly. “How is Henry?”

“Fine, I think. I saw him when I went to visit Emma; I see him mostly in school right now. Emma and I are still a little tentative around each other. I wanted to give her space.”

Blue nodded. “That’s wise.”

Snow brightened, remembering recent news. “But Henry is staying over with us tonight. I came to get cake mix,” she admitted with a grin.

“Another clever move. Keep baking cakes and the boy will never want to leave,” she smirked. “Why not give him some extra attention? The poor child has been through so much: his mother attacked, Emma and his adoptive mother in a relationship…I wonder how he is handling that?”

“I have no idea,” Snow admitted, shocked she hadn’t thought to ask Emma.

“Well, I’m sure he could use his grandmother right now. I’m glad he will be able to spend some quality time with you and David.” She patted Snow’s hand and took her leave. “Enjoy.”

XXXX

_I could get used to this._

Emma stared lovingly across the table at her girlfriend, whom she took on their first official date…to the woman’s own dining room. Restaurant options were rather limited in the small town, and given the recent turmoil over their relationship and subsequent attack, Emma was keen for a small, intimate dinner at home. She smiled at the realization: home. This was her home. This was her partner. This was her life.

“What are you grinning about?” Regina’s face sparkled with amusement.

“How lucky I am. To have a beautiful, smart, kind woman who loves me. A great kid. And to live with both of them.” Emma dipped her head, slightly overcome with this wonderful reality.

“I feel the same way.” Regina smiled, reaching across the table to hold her hand. “Now,” she continued, brightening her tone to lighten the mood. “You have been holding out on me. You’re turning into quite the chef.”

Regina motioned to their nearly empty plates, which had sported grilled shrimp on a bed on quinoa, tossed with cranberries and pumpkin seeds. Emma insisted on cooking dinner, which her lover assumed would be some sort of breakfast food or a six-foot sub. The brunette was shooed from the kitchen and told to relax, which was difficult considering she knew of Emma’s history with kitchens and appliances.

She succumbed to a cat nap in the parlor, soon awakened by a chaste kiss and escorted to the dining room where Emma had set the table, lit candles and poured wine.

“I know, right? And I can pronounce ‘quinoa’ correctly. I’m pretty awesome.”

Regina chortled. “How do you even know about quinoa? I didn’t think they wrote about that in People magazine.”

“Har, har. I’ll have you know I took out a cookbook from the library. _With my own library card._ I’m trying to impress you. Is it working?”

Regina raised an eyebrow, taking another bite of her meal.

“Do you know quinoa is the perfect protein? It’s gluten-free.” The blonde leaned across the table, pursing her lips and attempting a sultry stare. “Am I getting you hot with all this nutrition?”

Brown eyes met green, arousal flaring. “You have no idea,” Regina purred, her tongue quickly darting out to wet her lips.

“OK, I was joking, and now I’m super turned on. Damn you, sexy temptress. Throttle back, we’ll never make it to dessert.”

Regina narrowed her eyes. “I thought I was dessert,” she whispered.

“Oh, you did it now.” Emma growled, rose and with surprising speed and strength, hoisted Regina over her shoulder and headed for the stairs.

“Emma!”

“Sorry, lady, you just started the ignition sequence.”

The next morning the pair was still in bed, making the most of the empty house and luxuriating in the ability to lie in each other’s arms without waiting to hear the school bus rattle up or the front door slam.

Emma was tucked into Regina’s side, her head resting on her breast, soft breaths tickling her skin.

“Blast offfffff,” she sang. She could feel Regina shake with giggles.

“I’ve had enough of your space euphemisms.”

“Houston, we have no problems.”

“Gods, stop, please.”

Emma rolled on top of the brunette and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I love this.”

“Me, too,” she hummed, utterly content.

“After we tell the kid, I can sleep in your bed, right?”

“No.”

Emma’s eyes crumpled, lips parting in surprise.

“You can sleep in _our_ bed.”

“Jesus Christ!” Emma exhaled shakily, she had been holding her breath after Regina’s initial denial. “That’s not funny.”

Lightly trailing her fingers down Regina’s sweat-slicked, bare sides, she quickly exacted her revenge. “But this is.” The blonde instantly began tickling her lover mercilessly, fingers roaming, gauging the most effective spots.

“Stop!” Regina panted in between protesting shrieks and gasping breaths. “Stop!”

“I couldn’t resist.”

“I’ll get you back.”

“Sweet, I’ll show you where you can tickle me.”

Regina lightly slapped her girlfriend on the shoulder. “You’re so crude.”

“True, but you love me, anyway.”

“True.”

The women lay wrapped in each other, savoring the simple act of holding their love, completely at peace. A thought formed on Emma’s lips. Her brain told her to think twice but in true Emma Swan fashion, she barreled ahead, regardless.

“David told me about what happened in the stables. Not in a gossipy way,” she assured. “He was worried about you.”

“Well, that’s a mood-killer. Regardless, I find that hard to believe.” She quickly amended her statement. “Wait, that’s…that’s not true. That’s not fair to him. He is nothing if not sincere, I know that.”

Regina sighed quietly, pulling Emma impossibly closer. “He saved me and Henry that day. I never thanked him. I should.”

Emma was pleasantly surprised at how Regina immediately corrected herself without prompting. _She really is trying._

She searched for the right words to continue. _Are you OK?_ What an idiotic question. It was one she had been asked countless times by foster parents, DYS staffers, group home administrators, counselors, you name it. _Of course I’m not OK, next question, asshole. Put a little thought into it next time._

“How are you, um, handling that?”

Regina chuckled. “You _have_ been speaking with Dr. Hopper.”

Emma took Regina’s hand, squeezed it and held it in between her own.

“I’m working through it. Talking with Dr. Hopper helps. It was…traumatic, but Daniel said something very important.”

“He spoke?” Emma was stunned. From David’s description, the man was nothing more than a violent zombie.

Regina nodded sadly at the memory of her fiancé’s final, painful moments. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at their joined hands resting on top of the comforter.

“He told me to love again.”

“What do you think about that?” Emma breathed.

Regina raised her head to look in Emma’s eyes. Tears slid down her cheeks, her deep brown eyes watery and pained.

“I think he’s right.”

Wiping the tears off her cheeks with her thumbs, Emma kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, I just…I’ve been thinking about what he said and I wanted to know you’re OK with this...with us.”

“I’m more than OK,” she smiled; the expression sounded odd coming from her mouth. “And don’t be sorry. It’s important we talk about difficult subjects.”

The statement brought forth a new topic. Regina paused, this was harder than she imagined. But if this was delicate-confession hour, it was a good time to share the thought that had been on her mind for days. “And speaking of difficult subjects…I want to make peace with Snow.”

Emma gasped. This was unexpected, to put it mildly.

“You are an incredibly important part of both our lives. If we’re to be together I need to learn to tolerate her, to be in her presence. I don’t want to hide us to spare her feelings. She needs to move on and so do I.”

Emma shifted out of Regina’s embrace and onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow. “So no more I-go-pickup-Henry-alone-at-my-parents? You’ll come, too?”

“Yes. And, if your mother comes over to visit, I won’t leave to avoid her.”

“Wow,” she breathed, wonderstruck.

“That doesn’t seem like the appropriate exclamation for the fact I am intent on reconciling with my mortal enemy, but if it’s the best you can do…”

Emma snorted. “I’m sorry, I’m just… _wow_.”

“Now that you’ve mastered cooking, perhaps you can use your library card to take out a thesaurus?”

Still unable to find suitable words, Emma smiled, seizing Regina’s lips in a passionate kiss.

“Are you done, snarky?”

“Quite.”

“I love you, so much.”

Regina nuzzled her head into Emma’s neck and placed a kiss on her collarbone. “Now _those_ are the right words.”

XXXX

While his mothers were finishing up their 16-hour vacation across town, Henry emerged from Emma’s old bedroom, showered, changed and ready for breakfast.

Plopping down at the kitchen island, he smiled at his grandmother, who beamed in return. The trio had had such a fun night, she cherished their time together. David bought the boy his very own pocketknife and began teaching him essential knife skills – how to use it safely, clean it, sharpen it with a whetstone. She couldn’t tell who was more excited – Henry or David. Snow’s chest warmed at the memory, David sharing how his father had done the same for him at Henry’s age.

“What’s for breakfast, Gram?”

“It was going to be pancakes, but we’re out of mix. David’s gone to the store to get some.”

Henry pulled out his pocketknife, reached for the whetstone and began to methodically – and proudly - sharpen the blade.

“Excellent, Henry. Nice work.”

The boy beamed. “This is so cool,” he smiled. “My mom’s gonna freak out.”

 _Oh, God, Regina._ Snow assumed he was referring to her and determined she was right. Thinking of all the times Mayor Mills upbraided her and anyone else in town when they fell short of her perfect Henry standards, she blanched a shade. _We bought Henry a knife. Oh, God._

“How _is_ it going with your mom?” Snow started, cautiously.

“Really good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she’s chilled out a lot now that Emma’s around.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“I love it,” he answered, concentrating on smoothly sliding the blade across the block at the correct angle.

“So you’re OK that they’re…” Snow searched for the right term, but stopped completely when Henry looked up, his face scrunched in confusion.

“That they’re what?”

It was right then that Snow White realized what she had done. Again.

XXXX

“We’re going to take this slow, right?” Emma asked as she got out of the Mercedes.

“Correct. I’ll just be there. We’ll get used to being in the same room. I’m not going to try and engage her in any apologies, explanations, etc.”

Emma’s face shone as she eyed her girlfriend. She had changed so much, so quickly, for her. “I’m sure you’re sick of hearing this, but I love you so damn much.”

Regina dipped her head, the wave of Emma’s emotion nearly pulling her under. She walked to the woman and grabbed her hand. “I could never hear that enough. I adore you, my love.”

“Alright, well, let’s go get our son and establish the new world order.”

The pair headed for the Charmings’ front door and found David exiting his truck, groceries tucked in his arm.

“Can I interest you ladies in some pancakes?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Emma grinned.

Ushering them ahead with a gallant wave of his arm, the trio ascended the stairs and walked through the front door, the happy, carefree mood evaporating in a millisecond.

There stood a shell-shocked Snow, frozen behind the kitchen island, and an enraged Henry, eyes blazing with betrayal and hurt.

“You _lied_ to me,” he spat at Emma. His eyes moved to Regina. “ _You_ lied to me _again_. HOW COULD YOU LIE TO ME?”

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than usual, but with good reason. I was writing it and it was getting far too long, I was trying to jam too much in. I realized that if I felt like that writing it, you were going to feel the same way reading it. So I split it into two, therefore, while this chapter is shorter, you won’t have to wait long for Ch. 11.

“Hey! You don’t talk to me that way and you _certainly_ don’t to your mother like that,” Emma immediately snapped, taken aback by the boy’s vitriol.

She wasn’t sure why Henry was so upset, but she wasn’t about to take any shit from an 11-year-old, _especially_ if he was hers.

Emma immediately turned to check on Regina, who looked like she was about to implode. Her lips were parted in a mixture of shock and panic, eyes crumbling at the corners. She stood in near rigor, arms crossed, practically hugging herself – a picture of anguish. Emma grabbed an elbow, afraid the woman might faint.

“What the hell is going on?” Emma barked at her mother, who by the looks of it was faring as terribly as her girlfriend.

“I…I…” The already pale woman’s cherubic face had faded to near translucence, her mouth gaping as she stuttered.

“Mary-Margaret…” David began cautiously as he crossed the room to her side, placing the groceries onto the kitchen island, “what happened?”

Emma blinked, almost startled by her father’s motion until she realized no one had moved an inch since they walked through the door, seemingly frozen in place by Henry’s verbal assault.

She stole another glance at Regina, the brunette’s chest rising and falling in time with shallow breaths, her face haunted. Emma moved her hand from Regina’s elbow and threaded it around her back for support. She felt the brunette sag into her slightly, but Emma couldn’t catch her eyes, they were focused solely on Henry.

Everyone stared at Snow, who still couldn’t string words into a coherent sentence. Henry jumped in, eyes blazing with betrayal.

“Gram told me,” he spat. “She told me you’re together, that you’re dating.”

Emma felt Regina sway slightly and guided her to the couch. Girlfriend safe, she wheeled around, furious, eyes impossibly wide and angry, fists clenched at her sides.

“You, be quiet,” she ordered Henry, jabbing a finger in his direction. The child’s face quickly shifted from irate to frightened; he had never been on the business end of an angry, serious Emma. “And you…”

Grabbing her forehead, trying to collect and order the riot of thoughts and emotions bombarding her mind, she stepped closer to Snow. Emma paused a few seconds, leveled her mother with the steeliest of gazes and unloaded.

“What the fuck, Mary-Margaret?” she thundered. “What the actual fuck were you thinking?”

Regina instinctively opened her mouth to chide Emma on her language, but her brain closed her lips immediately. This was not the time. Instead she clasped her hands in her lap, the fight echoing somewhere in the distance as she became lost in her own thoughts. _Now there’s a hole in your heart and some day you will come to me to fill it._ She heard Rumple’s words reverberate through the ages. _This is my fault. I can’t have it all. Villains don’t get happy endings._ Guilt and remorse wracked her soul as nausea rose in her throat. She knew her relationship with Emma could survive without Snow’s approval. But without Henry’s?

“I…”

“Spit it out, for Christ’s sake. You’re fucking fantastic at running your mouth and getting into everyone’s business, but now you’re a goddamn mute?” Emma hollered in disgust and frustration, looking to her father for help with pleading eyes.

Emma’s fury was so thick and violent, Henry unconsciously sought safe harbor on the couch next to Regina, who placed a gloved hand on his thigh in silent support.

The boy piped up from the couch, trying to come to Snow’s aid. “You lied to me,” he repeated, much softer this time.

“We _never_ lied to you,” Emma asserted sternly, spinning toward the couch. “We just hadn’t told you yet. In fact…” She barked out a dark laugh, it was absurd at the turn this once-promising day had taken. “We were coming over here to pick you up and tell you.”

“We didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Regina added sadly, reaching for his hand and tucking it in between her own. “We thought it would have been too much to handle if we told you earlier, that you would think there was magic involved. But there’s not, Henry, I swear to you. I just…” Her breath hitched with emotion as she looked at Emma, her Emma, standing there, all but in a battle stance ready to defend her, the only person in any realm to do so. Her eyes filled with tears as she continued. “I just love her so much.”

“How does it feel?” he asked quietly, disconsolate. “How does it feel to know something with all your heart and have no one believe you?”

Regina had commanded armies, killed untold subjects, ruined lives. She was royalty, neither bowing nor cowing for no one. Yet this child was her lone weakness, she had absolutely no defense against him; his question hit its mark with devastating accuracy.

Snow watched her daughter’s face transform from aggressive hostility to vulnerability in an instant as Emma saw her girlfriend attacked, a direct shot to her Achilles’ heel, ironically by her Achilles’ heel.

The blonde crossed the room, kneeling in front of her love and their son, placing her hands atop theirs.

“Hen, we just fell in love, I can’t explain it,” she declared softly. “There is no magic. This is just us. We didn’t know how to tell you because we figured you would blame magic, then I got attacked by Tillman. And, you know, as long as we’re coming clean here, I’ll tell you the truth. He hit me in the head – _with a wrench_ – because I love your mom. Because he hates her and thinks she doesn’t deserve to be loved, to be happy.”

She paused to let the harsh truth sink in, her bruises nearly faded but still evident. “Do you think that, too?”

“No! No way,” he exclaimed defensively.

“So give her a break, give _us_ a break. Don’t you think we’ve all learned what happens when you use magic? Do you really think your Mom would do anything like that again?”

She squeezed their joined hands. “Listen, I know this is not what you expected. Hell, it’s not what I expected. But it’s amazing and wonderful and I feel so….” She searched, no adjective seemed to do justice, so she started again. “After a lifetime of being alone, I finally have a family, and it’s all because of you and your Mom.”

Emma looked up to find tears pooling in Regina’s eyes, reflecting hurt from Henry’s initial assault and love from the blonde’s defense. Emma winked; _It’s going to be OK_. Regina nodded imperceptibly in return.

“I…” Henry tried to speak, but couldn’t get far, it was just too much to process and too soon since he found out.

“Go to my room,” Emma directed gently, patting his hand. “We’ll talk more later.” She rose, her voice lowering from soft motherly tones into unfeeling determination. “I have to speak with your Grandmother.”

“But I—”

“Kid, you’re 11. And I know you’ve been through much more than most kids your age, but I know what it’s like to grow up before your time, and it’s not as great as you think. You are smart and you are brave, but you’re not ready for this. Go to my room. Let us handle this.”

“Are you going to yell at Gram?” he asked, voice full of worry.

“No, Hen. I won’t. Promise.”

Resigned to the fact, Henry rose off the couch, grabbed his knife and whetstone and retreated to the bedroom.

“Really, Snow? A knife?” Regina groused, incredulous.

Emma rolled her eyes and stifled a chuckle. Closing her eyes, she leaned over and kissed her lover’s forehead, trying to draw the strength she needed to get through the rest of what she had to say.

Turning around, she trained her gaze, stony and unrelenting, at her mother once more.

“Why would you do this to us?” she hissed, her voice a fierce whisper as she tried to uphold her promise to her son. “To me?”

“I didn’t mean to, honestly,” she defended. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told him.”

“Why are you even talking to him about us? How is this your business?”

Snow stayed rooted behind the kitchen island, the same spot Emma, Regina and Charming found her in when they arrived. She braced herself on the island with both hands.

“It’s not, honey, I know. I made a mistake,” she acknowledged solemnly. “A terrible mistake. I was just worried about Henry and I was talking to Blue and—”

“Blue?” Emma spat, confused. “What the fuck does Blue have to do with this?”

Regina leaned forward concerned, her immediate unease now shifting from her son to her lover. The former Evil Queen was no fan of the sanctimonious fairy, who she knew harbored nothing but ill will toward her.

Snow opened her mouth to answer, but no sound emerged. Once again she realized she had misspoken, 5 seconds too late.

“Why were you talking to Blue?” David asked suspiciously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I was at the store and I ran into Blue. She asked how you were doing after the attack and how Henry was handling it all – the attack, your relationship. “She was _concerned_.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Regina scoffed.

“And just how does she know about us?” Emma fumed. “Did you tell _her_ , too?”

“No,” Snow snapped, back on the defensive. “She knew before I did. She told me.”

“When?”

“Thanksgiving.”

Emma scrunched up her face as she flipped a mental calendar in her head. “Wait, that…that was before I told _you_.” Her eyes lowered into slits, anger rising ever higher. “You knew? You knew when I came and talked to you? When I came and told you something really hard, but I sucked it up and told you anyway because I respect and love you and I didn’t want you finding out from anyone else? _And you already fucking knew?_ ”

Emma smacked her hand onto the kitchen island in frustration and anger, prompting Regina to rise off the couch and walk to her side. Clearly hurt and irate, Regina knew her girlfriend needed her, now.

“No wonder why you were so calm. Dammit!”

“Emma, I—”

“No! No! You. Do. Not. Talk.” Emma blew out a harsh breath as Regina stroked her back, trying to will calm and comfort onto her enraged love.

Eyes soft and devastated, once again glistening with tears, the blonde reached for Regina’s hand and held it. “I love Henry and I love you,” she announced firmly. “I love you,” she added, nodding at David, then locked eyes with Snow. “And goddamn it, I even love you. Why can’t I love you all?” she cried. “Why is everything so fucking hard? Why?”

David and Snow watched their daughter’s shoulders crumple under the weight of emotion and betrayal as tears began to fall. The prince took a step to offer his support, but Regina was already there, scooping her girlfriend into her arms, rubbing her back as she sobbed in disappointment and defeat. The former Evil Queen held the Savior tight, whispering soothing words of love into her ear.

No one spoke nor moved as Emma spent a minute working through the sobs until they subsided into sniffling and hitched breath. The blonde wiped her eyes with the heel of her palms until they were clear. Sorrow had disappeared, replaced by defiance.

“Henry, get your stuff, we’re leaving,” Emma called calmly toward the closed door. She walked to her mother and lowered her voice, pique flaring.

“I thought life hurt when I was alone, when I had no one. This is even worse,” she hissed, lips set in a sneer. “Fuck you, Mary-Margaret. Stay out of my life.”

Emma crossed to a shocked Regina, gently took her hand and walked toward Henry, who emerged from the bedroom, eager to leave the awkward environment.

“Bye, Gram, Gramps,” he called softly, crossing the threshold, followed by Regina. Emma stopped at the doorway and turned, glaring at Snow once more. “Oh, and I’m moving in with my family. I’ll be back for my stuff.”

XXXX

The trio arrived at Mifflin Street, for the first time an official family. Once through the front door, Henry headed for the stairs only to be stopped by Emma.

“Hold up, kid,” she ordered, pointing to the parlor. “We need to talk.”

Everyone filed silently into the room, Henry sitting down first, a mixture of confusion about recent news, anger that he wasn’t informed earlier and a touch of fear at Emma’s newly commanding presence.

Emma sat on one side of the boy, motioning to Regina to take the other. She’d been in enough of these sit-downs with adults, a child sitting alone facing a phalanx of adults. She hoped their position on the couch was comforting, a silent symbol they were together, one unit, all on the same side.

“Do you have any questions, Hen? Anything else you want to ask us?”

The boy was silent, head down, staring determinedly at his lap.

“We know this is a lot to take in, but I love your mother.” Emma’s earnestness was almost overwhelming, nearly willing the child to accept the fact.

“And I love Emma.”

Henry shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t understand, you guys _hated_ each other.”

“True,” Regina noted, matter of fact.

“And then we became friends. Do you believe we’re friends?” Emma placed a finger under her son’s chin and lifted his head.

“Yeah.”

“So why can’t we be in a relationship?”

“Do you think either of us would lie to you about this?” Regina asked gently.

“No.”

“We know this is hard for you to understand – you haven’t been down this road before,” Emma noted. Henry looked at her confused. “You haven’t been in a relationship yet,” she explained. “It’s kinda hard to really get until you go through it.”

Henry shrugged his shoulders.

“I love you,” Regina added, clearing her voice, trying to push sounds out of a throat that had tightened with emotion. “And I love Emma.”

“And _nothing_ is changing that, kid.”

Henry cocked his head to the side, a new idea taking shape. “Does this mean you’re getting married?” he asked warily.

The boy wasn’t sure whose eyes were wider, Regina’s or Emma’s. Had the environment not been so charged, he would have laughed out loud.

“Uh, let’s not jump the gun, kid. We haven’t talked about that yet.”

If Emma didn’t realize the adverb, Regina did. The brunette drew in a sharp breath of surprise, then cleared her throat again. “Emma is right, relationships take time. They evolve. Perhaps someday.”

Now it was Emma’s turn for blown pupils. Astonishment turned into a warmth, causing her face to break into a stupid grin.

“It’s OK not to completely understand right now. It’s going to take some time. But you’ll get there.”

“We all will,” Regina chimed in with a smile.

“Can I go now?” the boy pleaded, the only person unsmiling in the room.

“Yes, dear.”

The women caught each other’s eyes, silently communicating a plan to the other. They both leaned in and kissed their son’s cheeks. “Hey!”

Emma laughed as he wiped his face with his sleeve. “Get outta here.”

As Henry left the room, Regina immediately folded herself into Emma’s embrace.

“That actually wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” the blonde noted, exhaling deeply.

“You can’t be serious. You think it could have gone worse?”

“Well, no one was killed. That’s a plus.”

“Yet, huh?” Regina smirked.

“Perhaps someday? I didn’t miss that, you know.”

“Nothing gets by you, my love.”

Emma checked to ensure the boy was out of the room before she drew the brunette in for a lazy, thorough kiss.

XXXX

Life returned to what passed as normal for the newly minted Swan-Mills family. Regina and Emma kept their PDA to a minimum, very aware that their son remained quite unsure of recent developments. The mothers-son relationship resumed its normal dynamic, with the exception of the issue of the women as a couple. It was a Don’t Ask, Don’t Show, Don’t Tell détente, Regina and Emma worried that broaching the subject again would crush the fragile peace.

It was several days later, during breakfast, when Henry realized that the fact that his mothers were dating had barely altered the characteristics of their everyday lives - it was as it had been for weeks.

Regina eyed her girlfriend’s loaded breakfast plate and snorted. “How you are not the size of your car I’ll never know.”

“Superior metabolism, superior intellect.” Emma stabbed a forkful of food and grinned as she chewed, flexing a bicep.

“And ego.” Regina sniggered as Emma grabbed the last wedge of melon off the brunette’s plate. “Look at me, eating fruit. What a well-balanced sheriff,” she marveled sarcastically.

Henry watched his mothers banter back and forth and reflected on the past several weeks. His mother smiled more in that time than he could ever remember. She was kind, considerate and caring to him and Emma, and – most surprisingly - cordial to anyone she happened to meet in town, a town whose inhabitants still held a considerable grudge. She seemed relaxed, and for the first time he could ever remember, she seemed happy.

After breakfast Henry sidled up to Emma, who was washing the breakfast dishes while Regina retired to her study. “Cooks don’t clean,” she declared, sauntering regally out of the kitchen.

“Mom’s really changing, huh?”

“She is. She is really trying hard.” Emma continued scrubbing, soaping and rinsing, handing clean dishes to Henry for drying. If he was going to stand there, she was going to put him to work.

“Here’s the thing, I love you and I love your mom. Are you on board or not?”

Emma bit her lip, hoping she didn’t push Henry too far too soon.

The boy looked at her, still drying a dish and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Seriously, what’s the issue? Something is bothering you.”

Emma finished washing and with no answer forthcoming, pressed on.

“Is it because we’re women?”

“No!”

“Well, that’s good, at least you’re not ignorant.”

Henry concentrated on drying the last dish, and when finished, placed it in on the counter.

“It’s because she’s my Mom. And you’re my Mom and my moms… ugh. But, I guess even if you were both dating guys, I’d still be grossed out.”

“Thanks?” Emma replied, unsure if this was Henry’s version of a seal of approval.

“It’s OK, I just…I just want you both to be happy. Just don’t, like, kiss in front of me or anything.” Emma laughed in relief as Henry leaned into her, bumping her with his shoulder.

“Can I hold her hand?”

“OK.”

“Put my arm around her?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Can I still kiss you?”

“God, no!” he joked.

“Oh, yeah?” Emma pulled the stopper from the sink and turned, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Challenge accepted. Hey, Regina! Come grab this one with me! I wanna lay one on him,” she hollered as she chased her giggling son out of the room.

“Noooo!”

The pair thundered up the grand staircase laughing manically as Regina emerged from her study wondering what the hell just happened and hoping it was as good as it looked.

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued thanks for your reviews because in addition to making me feel like I wrote something worthwhile, they also make me think. I initially had a much different take on the big blowup scene at the Charmings’ apartment, but an early review of Ch. 9 was smart, right on point and made me view things from another angle. I rewrote the fight scene and I think it turned much better and truer to the characters, especially Emma. Your reviews make a difference! Thank you for taking the time to read and review.


	11. Chapter 11

“Regina! Henry!” Emma called merrily as she walked through the front door with red cheeks and twinkling eyes. December in Maine had arrived in full-force.

Henry walked out from the parlor, Regina the kitchen, questions written on both their faces.

“Get your boots on. We’re going on an adventure.”

“Cool!” Henry cheered and took off for the back porch. Regina raised an eyebrow as her love leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to her lips.

“Gods, you’re frozen!” Regina pulled away with a start, rubbing her hands up and down her girlfriend’s arms in an attempt to warm her up.

“Waterproof boots, lady,” Emma advised with a smile. “Snow boots - not those sexy, black leather ones I love so much.”

“Whe—”

“I’ll tell you in the truck.”

“Truck?”

The trio soon emerged from the front door and headed for the street.

“Why are we using David’s truck?” Regina asked, suspicion rising. Emma hummed cheerfully, remaining silent until everyone was in the cab and they were on their way.

“Because a Christmas tree won’t fit in my Bug and I know you won’t let one near your precious carriage,” she smirked. “Plus, it wouldn’t fit, anyway. Unless we tied it to the roof and I _know_ you’d never allow that.” The blonde laughed at the very thought of her girlfriend’s reaction to that request.

“A Christmas tree.” Regina’s statement was so matter of fact, Emma had a sudden pang of anxiety, an issue she never considered popping up.

“You guys _do_ celebrate Christmas, right?”

“Yule.” Henry and Regina answered simultaneously.

“That’s like Christmas?”

“Similar, minus the Christianity, yes.”

“What about Santa?”

Henry tilted his head, confused. “Who?”

“OK, that answers that.”

“But we never had a Yule tree in the house before!” Henry noted, excitedly. “Can we, Mom?”

Emma watched out of the corner of her eye as Regina turned toward her. _Shit_.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask before - I thought it would be a fun surprise. I just assumed you did Christmas.”

Regina placed her hand on Emma’s thigh and patted. “Of course, darling,” she reassured. “It will be fun.”

The family arrived at their destination – house, barn, corral and stable covering one side of the massive property, trees and woods the other. Emma grabbed a saw out of the truck bed and pointed to the distance. “Freeman said the Frasers are up there and to the right.”

“We aren’t stealing this, are we?” Regina asked carefully as they began slowly stomping their way through the snowy field.

“Excuse me?” Emma feigned offense. “This tree is a gift.”

Henry piped up. “For what?”

“Ideliveredafoal.” The response was mumbled quickly into a mitten.

Regina stopped, turned and grabbed her girlfriend’s arm. “Pardon me?”

“I delivered a foal.”

“You? _You_ delivered a _foal_?” Regina tilted her head in disbelief, eyebrows high in an incredulous smirk.

“OK, I helped deliver a foal.”

The blonde restarted their trek, eager to find another topic, any topic. “What? I have many skills. C’mon, less talking, more walking.”

“I still find that hard to believe,” she laughed. “You don’t even want to learn how to ride and now you’re a mare’s midwife?”

Emma tried to hide the grin that escaped, dropping her chin to her chest. She secretly loved it when Regina had the upper hand, and the brunette was relishing this turn of events.

“David was getting off shift when Freeman called the station looking for him. His mare was having a tough birth and he knew my Dad could help. David asked me to come, he said it ‘would be fun,’ ” she noted, air quoting the last words. “He seemed so excited, I couldn’t say no, and it’s not like anything else was happening.”

“So was it fun?” Henry asked, enthralled.

“It was disgusting.” Emma’s deadpan statement and subsequent shudder at the memory made Regina roar with laughter, imaging her girlfriend’s reaction to the messy miracle of life.

“It was so gross,” the blonde protested, defending her reaction. “And that foal was _huge_.”

“I wish I could have been there,” Regina choked out between laughs, wiping her eyes with her gloved hands.

“It was nasty.”

“No, not for the birth, I’ve seen those. I wanted to see you. Did you faint?”

“Ha, ha. Anyway,” she continued, anxious to get to the good part. “Freeman was so grateful for our help, he offered me and David our pick of trees.”

“I’m sure he was simply appreciative you didn’t pass out on his animals,” Regina noted playfully. Henry had already run ahead to the grove of furs, allowing Emma to pinch Regina on her ass for her insolence. The brunette squeaked in surprise and playfully batted Emma’s arm.

“OK, kid. You pick.”

“Really?”

Emma nodded and wound her free arm around Regina while Henry tromped around examining nearly identical trees, trying to pick the “right” one.

The Savior surveyed the scene and pulled in a lungful of crisp, clean air. The sun would be setting in about an hour, but currently the sky was clear and blue, temperatures were hovering near freezing and the snow this far out in the farm was pristine white, touched only by random animal tracks. Off in the distance, a horse whinnied and Regina snickered. “There’s your patient.”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh and snugged her girlfriend closer, watching mirth and love dance in her eyes.

“You can kiss her, you know…”

Two heads turned in surprise.

“I can tell you want to.”

“I always want to, kid.”

“Gross.”

Regina tilted her head and pressed a short, firm kiss to Emma’s lips, accepting the invitation on her behalf.

“Hurry up and pick a tree, man. We gotta get home.”

Regina laid her head on Emma’s shoulder. _Home. Our son is going to pick a Yule tree, my love is going to cut it down and we’re going to take it home._

XXXX

For people who had never had a Christmas tree, Regina and Henry took to the idea with abandon. After a trip to the hardware store, just one day later the impressive fur was decked out in lights, garland and bulbs.

The fire roared against the far wall, its mantle the recipient of three brand-new red stockings that hung with care bearing shiny glued-and-glittered names. The tree glowed in one corner, yet the family had their attention turned to the TV in the opposite as the couple snuggled on the couch and Henry lay sprawled in front of the fire like a cat.

“You’ve never seen ‘A Christmas Carol’?” Emma confirmed for the third time. Mother and son shook their head – again. Regina couldn’t figure out why this was such a hard fact for Emma to accept, she had never celebrated Christmas and for the past three decades lived in a town cut off from the Western world.

The 1951 film starring Alastair Sim was the only movie Emma owned, and she had bought it so long ago her copy was on a VHS tape. She tossed it to Henry, who put it in the machine and pressed play, then killed the lights. Emma always watched this movie in the dark, but never in a darkened room lit only by a fire and a Christmas tree. It was a setting for which she always yearned and one that, finally, had come to pass.

She smiled to herself as she pulled Regina closer, the haunting opening chords blaring, Dickens’ black and white Victorian London filling the screen. The blonde was anxious to see how the classic tale of redemption, hope and forgiveness sat with the former Evil Queen and their son, surreptitiously watching them and their reactions more than the movie.

A quiet gasp escaped from Henry when the Ghost of Christmas Present opened his robe to reveal the wretched children, Ignorance and Want. Regina tucked into her side, Emma heard her sniffle and clear her throat when Cratchit returned from Tiny Tim’s grave and felt her wipe her eyes when the newly transformed Scrooge visited Fred’s home on Christmas Day.

After Tiny Tim declared, “God bless us, everyone” and the credits began to roll, Henry stopped the tape and Emma turned on the lights, surveying the scene. The boy looked somber and Regina’s eyes were still watery.

“So, what did you think?” she asked, rubbing Regina’s arm in reassurance.

“It was pretty cool.”

“It was very moving.”

Emma pulled her arm away from Regina and leaned forward with a sad smile. “I used to work every Christmas.”

“That’s terrible.” Regina’s heart broke all over again for Emma’s lonely life.

“Not really, if you have nowhere to be.”

Regina wanted to gather the woman in her arms and remind her she would never be alone again, but she held her tongue. Her lover didn’t open up often about her past, so she knew if the blonde felt moved to now, it was important for her to get it out.

“It actually was my most lucrative day of the year,” she chuckled ruefully. “No one expects to get pinched on Christmas. I’d get a stack of claims Christmas Eve and hit house after house Christmas Day. Ring the doorbell, the perp would answer it or someone would call them to the door and I’d cuff ’em. I busted up dinners and parties, grabbing perps and making roundtrips to the police station. The cops loved it, they used to set an over/under on how many I’d bring in. I’d easily clear, like, 90% of the pile. The other bounty hunters hated me. Dec. 26 would come, they’d have a ton of bills to pay and I’d nabbed all the jumpers.”

Regina wasn’t sure how to react, unsure if Emma was proud of this fact or full of remorse. She reached for former orphan’s hand and held it gently, stroking her palm with her thumb.

“I used to _hate_ Christmas,” she continued sadly.

Still sprawled on the floor, Henry chimed in. “Because you were working?”

“Nah, it was a reminder I didn’t have a family. As a kid every December without fail I’d find myself sitting on some ratty couch in a group home, switching channels and this damn movie would be on. I didn’t want to watch it, but I’d get sucked in, year after year.”

She turned to Regina, eyes softening at the corners.

“I understood Scrooge, you know? Get Christmas over with, make it just like any other day and move on, instead of being a reminder of what I didn’t have. I would watch Scrooge, cheer him on ‘Screw Christmas! Take everything you can get!’ And by the end, every year, I’d be crying by the time he showed up to dinner at Fred’s. Every damn year.”

Emma squeezed Regina’s hand gently, eyes starting to fill with tears. She dropped her head, embarrassed by her confession, the sudden onslaught of emotion. She had to get this out. They had to understand.

“I always wanted to believe in the power of redemption, of second chances. Every year Christmas would come and every year it would pass and I’d still feel like old Scrooge.”

The Savior lifted her head and stared at her love, tear tracks streaking the brunette’s cheeks.

“But this year…this year, I finally have it.”

Regina pulled Emma into a hug, rubbing soothing circles across her back. Emma removed herself from the embrace only to cradle Regina’s face in her hands and place a reverential, chaste kiss on her lips. She caught Henry’s eye and winked. _I win, kid. I’ll kiss her whenever I want._

The boy grinned. Everything’s OK.

XXXX

Christmas Eve, 10 p.m. - it was all over but the shouting. Child in bed, desserts baked, food prepped, presents wrapped and under the tree. Emma and Regina took residence in their favorite new spot, on the couch across from the fire, sipping wine and enjoying the parental calm before the storm.

“You certainly love being in the dark,” Regina quipped.

“Don’t you know it,” the blonde leered. “But isn’t it beautiful? We don’t have the tree for that long, I want to enjoy it while we can.”

“No, I agree, it’s stunning.”

Emma sighed contentedly and placed her glass on the end table. She slowly removed her arm from around Regina’s shoulder, lazily dragging it across her upper back, massaging her deltoids, tickling an ear lobe and gently stroking the long lines of her neck with the back of her fingers.

“I have an idea,” Emma whispered excitedly. “Let’s exchange our presents now.”

“But gift-giving is tomorrow, correct?”

“It is, but a guy I worked with told me this great story I always loved. Ben said he proposed to his wife on Christmas Eve so it would always be their day. No matter what happened in the future, if they had one kid or ten, it was _their_ night. Christmas is for kids, but Christmas Eve was just for them, their private holiday. Every year they opened one gift on Christmas Eve, just the two of them.” Emma smiled dreamily at the thought.

“If you’re intending to propose, you just ruined the surprise,” Regina deadpanned. When Emma just kept staring at her with a peaceful smile, the brunette panicked.

“You’re not really proposing, are you?”

“Would you say yes?”

“Uh, I—”

“Kidding, kidding, relax,” she soothed with a smirk. “Not _yet_ anyway, perhaps someday. I just thought we could adopt Ben’s tradition. It’s quiet, just us. It can be our night. I never had anyone in my life I wanted to share this with, until you. Just one present?”

Regina couldn’t help but grin. With wide, excited eyes and a hopeful smile, Emma never looked more like Henry than at that moment. How could she refuse?

“Alright. But I maintain that despite your lovely story, this is simply a ruse so you can open a present tonight.”

Emma leaned forward and quickly pressed a kiss to Regina’s lush lips, then ducked under the tree and pulled out two small beautifully wrapped boxes – expected in Regina’s case, surprising in Emma’s.

“I know this is what I want to give you,” she noted, handing the box to Regina. “Do you want me to open this one?”

“Good choice,” she smiled. “Since this was your idea, you should go your first.”

Emma suddenly was nervous, her fingers fumbling with the tape and ribbon. She had never received a Christmas gift from someone who truly loved her before. Until she left the system, any gifts she received were from charities, sporting generic identifiers such as “Girl” or “Girl, ages 6+.” But this small box contained something Regina had picked out specifically for her. Nearly overcome with this wonderful reality, Emma’s determination that “Christmas Eve is just for us” suddenly seemed like a bad idea.

Regina watched the blonde with interest. She could tell the woman was lost in her head, struggling to open the present. _Has she never received a wrapped present?_

“You can just tear it open.”

Emma smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”

Soon the shiny red-and-silver wrapping and ribbon were removed to reveal a square box, embossed H. Andersen & Sons. Emma lifted the lid to reveal a silver quarter-sized circular pendant, into which was engraved a crowned swan. A diamond chip graced each of the crown’s three arches.

Emma gaped, running her finger over the cool silver.

“I designed it myself. I’m not much of an artist but I thought it would compliment your current one nicely,” Regina noted in a near-whisper, gesturing to the silver karma circle sitting on the blonde’s chest. “If you turn it over…”

Emma did just that, nullifying further explanation. Engraved in the back were initials, a large H in the middle, flanked by E and R on either side. She looked up in wonder, throat tight with emotion.

“I…”

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

“This is amazing,” she noted, unable to take her eyes off the necklace.

“Well, let’s see how it looks on you.”

Emma lifted up her hair while Regina removed the pendant and thin silver chain from the box, reaching over to clasp it around her neck. It settled on her chest, a few inches below the karma circle.

“Lovely.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” she began shakily. “No one’s ever—”

Regina cut off Emma’s statement with a calming shush, no explanation was necessary. The brunette cupped a side of her lover’s face with her hand, stroking her cheek with her thumb.

“You deserve everything I have, my darling. I love you more than I can express.”

The women met in a kiss filled with comfort that quickly became passionate as Emma straddled her girlfriend, intent on showing her just how much she appreciated her gift. Regina felt a tear land on her cheek as Emma ran her fingers through the brunette’s thick, black hair massaging her scalp in time with her tongue, which stroked and teased Regina’s mouth.

She pulled away with a gasp: “Now, now, what about my gift?”

“Oh, right,” Emma chuckled, dismounting her girlfriend’s lap and returning to her side. “Got a little carried away there.”

“There’s plenty of time to get carried away when we turn in,” she promised. “I know that soundproofing spell by heart and I have no qualms using it.”

“Me, neither. OK, open yours.”

Regina slid a finger under the wrapping’s edge and expertly popped the tape off the package, carefully unfolding the corners and side, unveiling the box.

“Show off.”

She lifted the lid to find a gold ring bearing three small mounted gemstones, which she quickly recognized as her birthstone, Henry’s and what she guessed was Emma’s.

“We kinda had a similar idea, using the kid,” Emma confessed sheepishly. “May I?”

Regina nodded wordlessly, moist eyes reflecting the firelight. Emma removed the ring from the box and slipped it on her right index finger.

“This is a promise ring,” she explained, gently clasping Regina’s fingers. “It shows we’re committed to each other and that I promise to love, cherish and protect you – and our son – forever.”

Emma moved her eyes from their joined hands to her girlfriend’s eyes, which were still trained on the ring. Nerves kicked in. _Too much, too soon?_

“Are you OK, sweetheart? If you don’t like it, it’s fine, I—”

“I love it,” Regina breathed, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “I haven’t worn a ring in such a long time. This is so…lovely. I truly adore it, thank you.”

Regina curled herself into Emma’s lap, kissed her soundly, and then tucked her head into the blonde’s neck.

“Remind me to thank your friend, Ben,” she noted formally. “I approve of his tradition.”

“I told you it was a good one. I liked this,” Emma noted, holding her lover close. “It would have been weird to exchange those gifts in front of the kid.”

“True.”

The pair sat snuggled in blissful silence until the grandfather clock in the hall broke the calm, striking 11. Emma smiled to herself. Almost Christmas! She excitedly thought about the day ahead, her first real Christmas Day with her new family, presents, big breakfast, dinner… _Oh, shit._

“Uh, Regina?”

“Hmmm?” the brunette hummed contentedly, curled in the blonde’s lap admiring the new addition to her finger.

“I forgot to ask you something,” she confessed sheepishly.

Regina could feel her lover tense and heard the anxiety in her voice. “What?”

“David asked if I would bring Henry over to the apartment tomorrow night so they can give him his presents.”

“They.” Ever since the blowout at the Charmings, Emma refused to speak her mother’s name, reducing her to “them” or “they.” David and Emma returned to near normal as coworkers and father and daughter, both happy ignoring the elephant in the room for fear of upsetting and losing each other – again.

“I’m not staying, I’d just drop him off. They can bring him back. I didn’t promise David anything, only that I’d ask. What do you think?”

Regina sighed. “No,” she said firmly. “Have them come over here.”

“OK, I figured…wait, what?”

“Have them come over here.”

“Why? I don’t want to see her,” Emma answered, veering close to a whine.

Regina regretfully removed herself from her lover’s lap and sat again at her side. The topic demanded a more-formal position.

“They are Henry’s grandparents and they are your parents. You should be together at Yuletide.”

“But I don’t want to see her.”

“I know what it’s like to have a…turbulent relationship with one’s mother.” Regina nearly laughed at the understatement. “I don’t wish that for you. You have a strained relationship right now – _understandably so_ – but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, Snow has a good heart. She is utterly self-righteous, selfish and annoying, but she is, ultimately, good.”

“But you hate her.”

“I did once, yes. But I don’t anymore. I strenuously dislike her actions, but I don’t hate her. I certainly don’t like what she’s done recently, how she has treated you. And I do despise the fact she has anything to say to that horrid fairy about us, but I see her from another angle now.”

Regina softly clasped Emma’s hands to underscore her point.

“I know what it’s like to try to protect your child from danger, to keep him from harm. To cling to your child desperately when you feel him pulling away, grasping tighter as he sprints away faster. I understand that. I’m not saying you have to make up with your mother, not tomorrow, nor ever if you choose. I don’t care if you never speak to her again. But I would like them to be here, for Henry and for you. I would endure countless awkward holidays for you both. And this would be on _your_ terms, in _your_ home.”

Emma was shocked, lips parted in a small o.

“I can’t hate her anymore,” Regina reasoned, disappointment tinting the statement. “She gave me Henry. She gave me you.”

She leaned in, her raised eyebrows requesting an answer. “Ask them to come over tomorrow night, after dinner. We’ll have dessert. Henry can open his presents, you and your father can enjoy each other’s company and your mother will sit in the corner petrified all night while I drink wine. And that’s if she even comes. It will be glorious either way,” she smirked, imagining the scene.

Emma finally closed her mouth, head spinning with words she never thought she would hear. She offered up the most coherent sentence she could: “Uh, OK.”

XXXX

The Swan-Mills family’s first Christmas was nearly over. Presents opened, food inhaled, day very merry until early evening when their guests arrived. Emma hugged her father, nodded at her mother – for Henry’s sake – then dragged him off to play with Henry and his new remote control helicopter. That left Regina to play hostess to Snow who, true to prediction, sat shyly in the corner watching her family celebrate.

Regina entered the parlor to find Henry, David and Emma laughing and shouting as they flew – or tried to fly – the small craft around the room. A smile automatically broke out at the trio’s unbridled enthusiasm and rampant immaturity, but her happy mood was quickly darkened when she glanced in the corner and observed Snow watching the troublemakers with a sad smile on her face. Every few minutes David or Henry would call out to the woman, demanding she watch or begging for approval. The smile on her lips never reached her eyes, which were filled with hurt.

Regina was surprised by the sharp pang of empathy she felt for her former nemesis; she knew what it was like to feel like an unwanted outsider in her own family. Before she knew it, found herself crossing the room and sitting down next to Snow.

“Remind me never to let any of them near an actual aircraft,” Regina quipped.

“Agreed,” Snow tittered.

The pair sat in awkward silence until Regina noticed the dessert plate balanced on Snow’s lap.

“Is that the pie you brought?”

Snow nodded.

“Is it mince?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly.

Regina loved mince pie, a treat she hadn’t tasted in nearly 30 years. She’d tried to make it countless times but gave up years ago. It never came out as well as she remembered.

“May I?” she asked, gesturing toward the fork.

Snow nodded in surprise, a near mirror image of Emma from the night before, as Regina cut off a small forkful and brought it to her mouth.

It was perfect. “Mmmmm, this is wonderful,” she praised, returning the fork to the plate. “Did Granny—”

“I made it,” Snow declared with a small smile.

“I didn’t know you could bake.” Regina was genuinely surprised. “It tastes just like—”

“It is!” Snow interjected, a true smile forming on her face. “Do you remember Maerwynn?”

Regina squinted, trying to match the name to a face.

“I’m sorry, I can’t recall.”

“Of _course_ you do, Maerwynn!” Snow searched Regina’s face for recognition. “Cook!”

“Cook?” Regina’s eyes lit up. “ _Our_ Cook?”

The former Queen smirked; that crafty old woman. “Cook taught you how to bake?”

Snow grinned, pleased her secret had never been discovered.

“When?”

“I used to sneak down to the kitchen and visit with her. I liked her so much, she was fun to talk to.”

“She was amusing,” Regina confirmed.

“Wait, you liked her? Everyone thought you hated her. They said you’d come storming into the kitchen yelling and kick everyone out.”

Regina snickered, Snow wasn’t the only one with a kitchen secret. “I didn’t like the staff overhearing my business, they were horrible gossips. My business with Cook, um, Maerwynn, was exactly that, my business.”

“You really liked her.” Snow smiled at the revelation. “No one could figure out how she kept drawing breath when you were down there all the time yelling.”

“I was fond of her. Plus, she was an excellent cook.”

The women sat in silence for several minutes, lost in memories of the old world. Emma looked over at the pair, eyes wide in surprise, and silently caught the attention of Regina, who winked: _Everything is fine._

As all three pilots thundered into the foyer chasing the helicopter, Regina cleared her throat and spoke.

“I refuse to get involved in your relationship with Emma, but I want to thank you for coming.”

“Of…of course,” Snow stammered.

“Emma is kind, loving and, ultimately, forgiving. I doubt she will hold a grudge forever.” Regina chuckled at the irony of the statement coming from her lips.

“I just want her back,” she sighed. “Regina…” Snow tilted her head, “why are you being so nice to me?”

The former Evil Queen smiled softly. “Because I love your daughter and this estrangement is hurting her, whether she admits it or not. What hurts her, hurts me. And I know what you’re going through.”

Regina slapped her hands on her thighs before standing. “I’ve become a big believer in second chances,” she announced lightly. “Come, let’s go make the coffee.”

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this story were a three-act play, we’re heading into Act 3 right now. The action ramps up significantly, buckle your seat belts. I’m anticipating this story will end with Ch. 16. Thank you so much for the reviews, subscriptions and bookmarks. And thanks, as always, to beta love Alaska829Snow, who gets texts from me, like, “Guess what weird Google searches I had to do for this chapter?”

Blue stood silently at her office window, watching Snow White walk away, a content smile on the brunette’s face as she made her way through the cold midwinter streets of Storybrooke.

 _That_ , she mused, pique flaring, _did not go as I planned at all._

She had invited her friend for tea and an Imbolc blessing, a flimsy explanation Snow surprisingly accepted without suspicion, despite the fact the new year had begun more than a month ago.

The pair had spent 20 minutes on comfortable small talk when Blue decided to carefully fish for information.

“How was your Yule?”

“Quiet. David and I had a nice day, then ended it at Regina’s to see Henry and Emma.” _Regina and Emma’s,_ Snow mentally corrected herself.

“You went to the Queen’s house?” The fairy feigned surprise. Thanks to an abundance of town busybodies, she knew exactly what had transpired, but wanted to hear it for herself and see if the situation was as dire as she suspected.

The brunette chuckled. “I was shocked, too. But Emma invited us. Well, I think it was Regina, but Emma called David.”

“Why do you think it was the Queen’s idea?”

A sad smile crossed Snow’s face. “Emma is still upset about how Henry found out.” Blue tittered mentally. _How Henry found out? You told him. The fairest in the land has no problem deflecting blame, that’s for certain._

“We’re slowly reconnecting, but we’re not quite to the point where we’re talking much,” Snow chuckled ruefully, “Or at all. She’s certainly not calling me on the phone or asking for anything. She prefers to talk to David right now.”

Blue sipped her tea and nodded, returning the cup to the saucer in her hand. “That’s understandable.”

“But, we’ve been in the same room,” she added hopefully. “She acknowledges me, but we don’t talk…yet. I’m trying not to push it.”

“That is wise. If you try to drag her to you, you will only push her away.”

“I’m trying very hard.”

“I know you are.”

Snow bit into a cookie, slowly chewing, a thoughtful look on her face. “You’ve known Regina for a long time,” she started.

“Indeed, her mother as well.” The fairy couldn’t hide the disgust in her voice.

Shivering a touch at the mere allusion to Cora, Snow continued. “Regina has really changed. She was very kind to me at Yule.”

_Ever the mothers, Regina and Snow bustled about the kitchen, making coffee and setting out plates and mugs when Snow noticed a glint on Regina’s right hand._

_“That’s…that’s a beautiful ring,” she noted quietly, her breath hitching a tad at the implications. Wait, right hand. OK…_

_Regina smiled warmly. “Thank you. Emma has wonderful taste.” She chuckled to herself. “I haven’t worn a ring in a very long time. My hand feels quite heavy with it. It’s silly of me, really…”_

_Snow carefully examined the brunette’s face. The twinkle in her eye when she talked about the ring. Her adoring smile when she mentioned Emma. The only time she’d ever seen the woman look that way was a lifetime ago, in darkened wood far, far away:_

“And that man in the stables, you love him?”

“With all my heart.”

_Snow caught Regina’s eyes and held them. “I think it’s lovely.”_

“That’s lovely,” Blue echoed. “How are you feeling about their relationship? I know you were terribly upset in the fall.”

“I was,” Snow admitted with a sigh. “And it’s still hard to accept instinctively. But I see her now, how she looks at Emma, how Emma acts around her. Gods, she’s so much like her father.” Snow giggled at the thought. “I know you offered to help with the situation, and I am incredibly grateful for your love and support, but I don’t think it’s needed now.”

Blue agreed with a nod. “What do you think the future holds for them?”

“I wouldn’t be so bold as to predict, but they are a couple and they’re in love, that I know. I’m not entirely comfortable with it, but I’ve accepted it. It will get easier with time.”

“Of course.” Blue set her cup and saucer on the table and rose, a fake smile plastered across her face. “I’m happy to hear things are sorting themselves out. I don’t want to keep you, I know you are extremely busy.”

“Oh, but, my resolution. May I give it to you?”

“Ah, the blessing! Certainly, my dear, I’m sorry. I’m terribly forgetful sometimes.”

Snow grinned, producing a folded piece of paper from her coat and placed it in the fairy’s hand. Blue held her other palm over the paper and began:

“This child has written her wish on this paper, her desire to cast out this darkness from her life and embrace greater light in the coming year.

As the moon wanes

And grows darker,

So shall all negativity

Grow smaller and smaller

Until it fades away

And is no more.

Let love be the power

To banish all negativity

So that positive energy

Can once again prevail.”

Placing the paper in the fireplace across from her desk, the fairy sprinkled the inner hearth with salt, sage and sweetgrass, then set it on fire with a spark from her legendary wand.

“Blessed be,” she whispered, placing her hands upon Snow’s head.

“Blessed be,” Snow repeated dutifully.

“Go, my child,” the fairy commanded gently. “I will see you soon.”

Blue returned from the window and locked the office door. Pointing her wand at the fireplace, she muttered an incantation. The ashes slowly rose from the hearth and reassembled in her hand into the folded piece of paper Snow had handed over earlier.

Although reconstructed, the paper was still burnt, pitch-black. The fairy waved her hand over the paper, which unfolded itself, Snow’s writing appearing like a reverse negative, words glowing in stark white against the inky-black soot.

**I resolve to accept Emma and Regina’s relationship and banish all negativity I hold surrounding it. I will welcome Regina as my family.**

For a woman known for her compassion and kindness, The Blue Fairy certainly felt none as she grabbed the baseball-sized snowglobe from her desk and squeezed. The glass quietly shattered in her palm, water, glitter, shards and blood splattering onto the floor.

Intense pain focused the fairy’s anger at the situation at hand and her determination to do something about it – immediately. A physical attack and injuries didn’t work. The possibility of rejection by her son and her mother didn’t sway Emma’s resolve. Blue huffed in frustration as she waved the wand over her bloody hand, sliced skin repairing in an instant, returning to clean, pale pink.

The time for finesse was over. Blue realized the situation would not resolve itself without her direct involvement. It was time to take matters into her own hands and let the casualties fall where they may.

XXXX

“Alright, kid, you ready?”

Henry nodded with a grunt, his mouthguard preventing any further conversation.

“OK, have fun.” Emma patted the boy on his back as he ran off onto the field, only to look over his shoulder and offer a quick wave to Regina.

“Wow,” Emma mocked as she made her way to Regina halfway up the field house bleachers, “he is such a Momma’s boy.”

The worried woman completely missed the taunt, concern wrinkling her brow. “I still don’t know about this.”

“Relax.” Emma sat down and grabbed her girlfriend’s hand. “It’s flag football. No contact. You stop the person by pulling the flag off his belt – no tackling. The worst thing is they might trip and get rug burn from the fake turf.”

“A burn?” Regina’s eyes grew wide with worry.

“Forget I said that. He’ll be fine. If anyone touches him, I’ll shoot them. OK?”

Regina unleashed a dirty chuckle. “A bullet would be the least of their worries.”

“God, you’re scary.”

Regina smirked and squeezed the blonde’s hand. “You have no idea…Oh, your parents are here.”

David and Snow reached the couple, whom Emma greeted with a casual, “Hey.” Snow was getting to be quite the connoisseur when it came to her daughter’s “Heys” as of late. She judged this one as promising. At Christmas, she barely registered a nod, but had since progressed to disgruntled “Heys” (clearly at Regina’s prompting), then lukewarm “Heys” and now a greeting that was nearly moderate. This was progress.

“Thanks for the help with the jock,” Emma confessed gratefully, turning toward her father on her left.

“It’s a guy thing.”

Regina tittered in disgust. “Yes, thank you, David, I couldn’t make heads nor tails of that contraption.”

The prince laughed loudly at the thought of Regina even trying. “My pleasure. We men have to stick together.”

“There’s Henry!” Snow exclaimed as the boy jogged onto the field with the defense and the game began.

“So,” Regina leaned in close to whisper in Emma’s ear. “Are you going to explain to your father how football works? Use your delightful example from Thanksgiving?” she teased with a chuckle.

Emma turned with a peaceful smile, kissing Regina’s temple, then dropping her lips to the brunette’s ear. “You’re horrible. I love you so much.”

The makeshift Swan-Mills-Charming clan clapped and cheered as Henry took shifts throughout the game on offense and defense. Emma was having a good time, but couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched. Resolute, refusing to hide her love for Regina, she continued to hold the woman’s hand throughout the game. _What? We’re not supposed to hold hands? Fuck them._

It was near the very end of the game when everything went downhill fast. Henry played the last series at tailback, taking a toss from the quarterback and running a pretty sweep. He had picked up 10 yards and skirted two defenders, his flag still velcroed securely to his belt. Excited, the boy was gunning for more, eyes on the end zone, when he was blindsided by a defensive lineman, who wedged his shoulder into Henry’s stomach, drilling him into the ground.

The crowd gasped as Emma and Regina’s cries echoed across the field. “Henry!”

Both made a move to bolt to their son’s aid but David held out his arm, blocking their path. “Wait, wait a second.”

The four adults watched carefully as Frederick ran out from Henry’s sideline, Eugene the other. The men crouched on one knee, asking the boy questions and moving his limbs gently. The crowd was silent as they watched Henry nod, then gently sit up and stand with the help of the coaches. Fred caught Emma and Regina’s eyes in the stands and offered a thumbs-up.

“He just got the wind knocked out of him,” Charming surmised. “It hurts, but he’ll be OK.” He turned to Henry’s mothers, who still looked pale, unsure and not drawing breath. “Breathe,” he advised. “He’ll be OK? Got it?” Neither woman took their eyes off their son as they nodded.

Henry’s sub came in, the whistle sounding two plays later. Game over.

“Mary-Margaret, take Henry to the apartment.”

The woman jumped with a start, shocked. It was the first sentence her daughter had spoken to her in over two months.

“Of...of course, honey.” Snow carefully walked down the bleachers and across the field. Emma watched her sling an arm around a smiling Henry and guide him out, the boy using his hands to excitedly mimic his big play.

“What are you going to do?” David asked cautiously as he, Regina and Emma headed for the sidelines.

“Going to see Fred, find out who the fuck that kid was.”

“I think it was Smithy’s son.”

“Who the hell is that?”

“Baldemarr. The blacksmith.” Regina supplied, trying to will calm onto her love. She was horrified Henry was targeted but knew that a fistfight would solve nothing.

“But that’s a woman,” Emma noted, pointing at the stocky figure standing next to her equally stout son.

“Right, her husband was the blacksmith,” David explained.

“Was?”

“He didn’t come over with the curse. She’s a seamstress here – Mrs. Marr.”

“Why?” Emma looked questioningly at Regina, who appeared stunned. “He didn’t? I have no idea. It was unintentional.”

The trio reached Frederick, who had crossed the field to intercept them before they reached the other team’s bench. “Guys, I’m so sorry. He’s OK, I checked him out. Just had the wind knocked out of him.”

Emma nodded in agreement, as the opposing coach approached, lips set in a grimace.

“Eugene, what the hell, man?” Emma barked in frustration.

The easy-going coach held his hands up, palms out. “I’m sorry! I didn’t tell him to do that. I swear I don’t know where it came from.”

“I do.” Regina looked over Eugene’s shoulder to see the Widow Marr approaching, eyes blazing.

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” Marr snarled deferentially, dipping into a shallow mock curtsey.

“Other than your son brutally attacking mine without provocation? No.” Regina used all her might to remain unemotional, refusing to take the woman’s verbal bait. She forced herself to adopt her most disinterested regal visage.

“It’s a mere game, Your Grace. Boys will be boys.”

“Tackling isn’t part of the rules,” Emma spat.

“Well, Princess, your family and its friends always play by a different set of rules, don’t they?”

“What does _that_ mean?” Emma growled.

As hard as Regina was fighting to remain unemotional, Emma was the opposite, reins dropped, thundering uncontrolled toward a confrontation. The blonde was practically vibrating from adrenaline and rage.

Marr laughed, a sick chuckle. “Oh, come now, don’t be bashful. You’re a Tribade, something that in our land would have you shunned and banished if practiced openly, but here you’re allowed to claim that evil cunt as your own wherever you please. In public, even.”

She snorted in disgust as Emma surged forward, David’s restraining hold the only thing keeping her from throttling the woman. “Shut your mouth!”

“Or what? Look at you, The Savior, your father holding you back. A father who, along with the _true_ Queen, for some reason allows you to practice your sick affections while courting that whore instead of making her pay for the crime she’s committed against all of us.”

Marr turned her attention to David, eyes begging for understanding. “She ruined our lives, Charming! She took my husband, leaving me alone to raise a son and make a living. I had a lovely life,” she cried in frustration. “She stole it. I’m not the only one who thinks she needs to pay. You’d do well to heed the wishes of your people and make her.”

The brash woman took a step forward, well into Emma’s personal space, to whisper her final thought.

“She must have some magic between those legs if she’s somehow been able to keep her head this long. Or maybe not, she’s a witch, after all.”

Emma moved quickly, surging against her father’s hold just enough to head butt the seamstress, who staggered back a few steps.

“You filthy whore!” she roared, scrambling to her feet and rushing toward Emma, who felt anger and frustration bubble over in her mind and expand through her body like never before. Her hands began to tingle, pins and needles, as if they were numb. _Am I having a stroke?_

No time to ponder, Emma tore out of her father’s grip, raising one hand to block the oncoming attack and another to throw a punch, but before she could follow through, Regina grabbed her arm to stop her. A blinding wave of white energy emerged from Emma’s hands in an instant, blasting the seamstress backward 25 yards onto the field.

Regina and David stepped back in shock, but no one was more surprised than Emma.

“I don’t know…I didn’t mean to…” she stammered, helplessly lost, turning toward Regina. “What’s happening?”

“Magic,” she answered in an astonished whisper. “You have magic.”

While Frederick and Eugene ran to make sure the hurled woman wasn’t seriously injured, Emma turned to David and held out her wrists, palms up, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

“You have to take me in,” she declared, fear rising in her throat.

“What?” Regina exclaimed. “No!”

“David…Dad...I assaulted someone—”

“By accident!” Regina chimed in.

“If it were anyone else, you’d take them in until the dust settles. You heard her, you can’t have people thinking you’re playing favorites. It’s bad enough already, apparently.”

The blonde held out her wrists once more. “C’mon, it’s OK.”

David nodded ruefully and fished the cuffs out of his pocket, snapping them around his daughter’s wrists.

“Follow us to the station,” David instructed a still-shocked Regina, who nodded dumbly.

As Eugene and Frederick helped Marr to her feet, the woman’s violent promise rang through the field house. “You’ll pay for this, witch! I’m sharpening a pike just for you!”

XXXX

Emma Swan sat locked in her own jail cell, petrified. The relative calm she exhibited when ordering her father to bring her to the station had faded, replaced by fear – fear of magic and, now, fear of herself. She sat on the cot, back against the wall, holding her knees to her chest, hoping to make herself as small as possible that she might magically wink out of existence.

After Emma was settled at the station, Regina headed to the Charmings’ apartment and caught Snow up on what transpired. A quick call to Ruby secured last-minute childcare for the night, before which Regina gave Henry a PG-rated version of the events at hand.

“I’m going to the station to develop a plan with your grandparents and Emma,” she explained, heart squeezing painfully at the anxiety clouding his face. “Everything will be fine.”

“Operation Save Mom?” he suggested with a sad chuckle.

Regina nodded, smiling weakly in return. _Indeed, but which mom?_

The brunette returned to the station and soon found herself sitting side by side outside the cell with Snow and David, trying to figure out a plan with the prisoner in question.

“We have no choice, we have to hold court,” Snow announced.

The trio had been talking options and strategy for over an hour, realizing they had little recourse. They tried to include Emma in the conversation, but the blonde sat silent.

“David, won’t you please let her out – or let me in?” Regina’s sad eyes couldn’t take the sight of her lover in so much distress, unable to offer her comfort. “This is madness, she hasn’t been arrested.”

“I’ve asked her several times, she won’t let me.”

“He’s right,” Emma piped up. “I need to stay in here. I’m dangerous.”

Regina scoffed. “Please, you’re nothing of the sort.”

“I’m not coming out and you’re not coming in.”

“Alright, back to the issue at hand,” Snow urged gently. “We’re agreed, correct? David and I hold court in 4 days. Residents will be able to come and air their grievances against Regina. We will convene a council to decide her fate.”

“What do you mean fate?” Emma asked warily. “You’re _not_ hurting her.”

“Of course not,” Snow answered. “We would council against any physical punishment or…”

“Or what?”

“Death,” Regina finished firmly.

“Are you fucking nuts?” Emma wheeled around to her parents, eye wild.

“That was an option in the old land,” David noted.

“But we’re not _in_ the old land. We have indoor plumbing and dentists and penicillin. No one is killing anyone, do you understand?”

Anger and fright flared inside Emma’s body once more, pins and needles returning, along with panic. “Uh, Regina…it’s happening again. I can feel…my fingers feel weird and I…”

“Breathe, darling,” she soothed, moving toward the bars, careful not to touch her. “Calm your heart. Sit down and regulate your breathing. Count to five while you inhale slowly, count to five as you exhale slowly. Magic runs off emotion and yours has run riot today.”

Regina returned to her seat and turned toward her companions outside the cell. “Her magic has been ‘turned on,’ so to speak. You can’t just shut if off like a light switch, especially as a beginner.”

“Electricity,” Emma added calmly, trying to concentrate on her breathing as she sat in a Lotus position on the cot. “We also have electricity over here.”

“I had no idea she had magic,” Snow marveled. “How is that possible?”

“I can’t be certain, but I’d assume Emma being a child of True Love is the answer. And that means her magic is extremely powerful.”

“We made that hat spin,” Emma noted, eyes closed.

“To be honest, I thought that was a fluke,” the former queen answered. “I nearly forgot that detail of the day.”

“So,” Snow began, “when you touch her…”

“We magnify each other’s powers or vice versa, it seems. I can’t be sure right now, magic works differently over here. Plus, I haven’t used it in so long and Emma’s is brand new and uncontrolled. Regardless, I will work with her on channeling and controlling her powers.”

“You realize I’m going to have to address the town about this.”

“About what?” Emma barked.

“Your magic. You know Hildy Marr is telling anyone she can what happened. We have to calm the people or they could riot.”

Emma snapped out a disgusted laugh. “Are you serious? Riot? How did you people even survive long enough to reproduce?”

Pins and needles flared again, alarm a close companion. “Ah! Regina?”

“Breathe, Emma,” she hushed, hoping her soft voice would pacify the woman’s fears. “Count to five, breathe in. Count to five, breathe out.”

“They’re simple people with a legitimate and well-earned fear of magic. We have to address this,” Snow repeated. “David and I will hold a meeting at town hall tomorrow night where we will explain everything: Emma’s magic and the upcoming court.”

Concern clouded Regina’s face as she met Snow’s eyes. “And what are you going to say about her magic?”

“That we just discovered she has powers and…” She stopped, perplexed.

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Please.”

“State that you recently discovered Emma possesses magic. It is light magic - good magic - that can be used for the well-being of the town and its people when she learns to control it. Tell them she is working with me – under your close supervision – to learn to harness it.”

“I don’t think they’ll go for that,” David noted, shaking his head. “They don’t trust Regina.”

“Well, we could ask Blue,” Snow suggested.

“No!” Emma and Regina shouted in unison.

“No offense, Snow, but I don’t trust her. She despises me. I…I fear she would try to turn Emma, Henry and you against me.” Regina’s voice was a near-whisper, pain in her eyes.

Emma halted her breathing exercises, magic under control. “You really think that?” She rose from the cot and walked to the bars, extending her hand.

“It’s a possibility. She’s very persuasive.” Regina rose and leaned against the bars, holding Emma’s hand. “Good job on your breathing,” she praised quietly.

“Blue wouldn’t do that,” Snow protested sincerely. “She can only use her magic for good.”

“Still, I just don’t trust her.”

“Me, neither,” Emma chimed in. “She looks at me funny.”

“Well,” Regina chuckled, “there’s your rationale.”

Snow sighed. “The people will have to accept Regina as your tutor, end of discussion.”

The couple smiled softly at the first good news of the day.

“Alright, I think we’re done here,” Snow concluded.

“Henry can stay with us tonight. I assume you’re staying here,” David asked, looking at Regina.

“Of course, thank you.”

“Emma, I’m coming in to hug you,” David announced formally, a grin on his face. “Don’t electrocute me.”

Charming opened the unlocked cell door and walked through, engulfing his daughter in an embrace. “Everything will be OK.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

David walked back out of the cell, leaving the door open and took Snow’s hand to leave.

“Mom?” The hesitant question hung in the air. Snow had to force herself to walk slowly - and not run - into her daughter’s arms. “Thanks.”

“It’s going to be OK, honey.”

“OK, we’re off to see the athlete. Call if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Snow. David.” Snow placed her hand on Regina’s bicep and squeezed. “Of course.”

As the couple walked out, Leroy walked in to start his shift and found Emma and Regina holding hands on the cot in the cell.

“Jesus, sister. What the fuck did you do?”

Emma looked up with a sheepish grin.

“I told you if anyone gave you trouble to _tell me_ , not fucking toss them on their ass across the field house. Shit!”

The deputy dumped his gear on his desk and headed to the coffee pot. “Although, that Marr lady is a bitch. Good job.”

Regina snorted. “I don’t like you hanging around with that miner,” she joked.

“His name is Leroy. And he, unlike most of the other idiots in this town, supports us.”

Regina looked at the blonde thoughtfully. “And just what are we?” She looked down, insecurity still strong after decades of emotional solitude and isolation.

Emma brought their joined hands to her lips, kissing the back of Regina’s.

“We are a couple. We are a team. You are the love of my life.” A tear escaped from the Regina’s suddenly watery eyes. Emma brushed it away gently and continued. “And I will magically blast every idiot in this town into submission until they understand that.”

Emma pecked Regina’s forehead, then leaned in for a hug, tucking her head into the brunette’s shoulder.

“Hey! No funny business,” Leroy snapped, a dirty grin sprouting up amongst the stubble.

XXXX

Later that night, while Storybrooke’s most controversial couple slept in a jail cell, across town a young nun grumbled.

 _It’s not fair_ , Nova whined to herself, slowly descending the steps from the residence wing to the monastery’s main floor. Since the curse broke, the sisters regained their fairy powers, but also retained several annoying human traits, such as the ability to come down with a nasty head cold.

It was the middle of the night, and the bright winter moon shone in the frigid, clear Maine sky, tossing moonlight and shadows across the floor through the tall convent windows. It was a light so bright, the fairy had no need to turn on a lamp.

Although they were fairies once more, the sisters preferred to still adhere to some of their more comforting convent rituals, one of which was the period of Night Silence from 10 p.m. until morning bell at 6 a.m. However, Nova’s stuffed-up head kept the sweet woman up all night, and she decided that confessing a broken Nocturn was less painful than a fitful night’s sleep and the inability to breathe.

Nova padded to the kitchen to make a cup of sinus-clearing tea, when she heard a clatter in the basement. Alarmed, she quietly snuck down the stairs to investigate, finding Mother, of all people, working in the root cellar on the other side of the gigantic basement. The woman was muttering, mortar and pestle in hand, head down in a book. Nova neared gasped when she smelled the tell-tale fetor of dark magic. She had only come across it once before, in the old land, but the scent was unmistakable. The nun was so shocked, she turned to make a silent, hasty retreat – tea be dammed - when an ill-timed, uncontrollable sneeze gave her away.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” Blue dropped her tools and quickly stepped out of the root cellar, closing the door behind her and making her way toward the stairs, cloak dragging across the stone floor.

“Uh, it’s just me, Mother,” Nova confessed, trying to will her voice to sound calm and matter of fact. Upon sneezing, she instinctively flew herself back to the top of the stairs, blocked off from view, then stepped down a stair or two as if she were just descending.

“This cold is terrible, I can’t sleep. My nose won’t stop running, my sinuses are pounding and I can’t smell a thing. I was in the kitchen to brew some salus-root tea when I thought I heard an intruder down there.”

“You’re breaking Night Silence.”

“Yes, Mother. I’m sorry. I am in great discomfort.”

Blue eyed her charge suspiciously for a moment, then satisfied with the explanation, unclenched the hand behind her back.

“Very well, go brew your tea. You can take on Lutea’s chores tomorrow as a penance.”

“Yes, Mother. Good night.”

Nova returned to the kitchen to brew her tea. It was moot, but she’d drink it anyway. If the head cold didn’t keep her up, worrying about Mother’s mysterious work in the cellar certainly would.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews sincerely appreciated.


	13. Chapter 13

“So you’re like The Hulk?” Henry chirped excitedly.

Emma sighed in the front passenger seat, amazed it had been less than 24 hours since they had all been in the same car on the way to his flag football game.

“Not quite, dear,” Regina chuckled. She glanced to her right, frowning at Emma’s state. The woman was slumped dejectedly, eyes vacant, obviously preoccupied with her newfound ability and its implications. She reached over and rubbed the woman’s thigh reassuringly.

“You just have to learn how to control them, like Bruce Banner!”

Emma snorted. “Yeah, and look how successful he is.”

“I will teach Emma how to control and harness her powers. She will be able to do a lot of good for people, if she so chooses.”

“What do you mean, ‘chooses’? She’s The Savior, of course she will.” Henry’s enthusiasm was isolated as Regina caught Emma rolling her eyes at the thought.

“OK, Henry, inside and change for school, the bus will be here in 15 minutes,” Regina ordered, stopping the car in front of the house. “And you…” She turned and smiled warmly at her girlfriend, cupping her cheek gently. “Upstairs, to bed. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t get a good night’s sleep on that cot with your…colleague watching me spoon you all night.”

Regina got Henry off to school, then immediately slid into bed with Emma, wrapping herself around the already sleeping woman and quickly fading off herself.

Two hours later, the couple awoke, still curled around each other, warm and content. Emma stretched lazily with a happy, satisfied groan until her memory jumpstarted, reminding her of the turn her life had taken.

“Brunch?” Regina offered, hoping to cheer her up.

“I don’t want to get up.” Emma snuggled back into Regina’s embrace and pecked her on the cheek.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

“Other than the fact I’m apparently super powerful and I can’t control my magic? How about I don’t want to be The Savior.”

She tucked herself even further into her lover, loping a leg round Regina’s bare ones, as if she could disappear into the woman and hide from the world forever.

“You heard Henry,” she continued, slightly muffled against Regina’s neck. “People are going to expect me to help them and I don’t want to. I don’t want to _have_ to. I don’t want to be a princess. Or a witch. Or responsible for anyone other than you and Henry.”

Emma removed her arm from around Regina’s torso and wound her fingers into thick, black hair, massaging her scalp. “I just want to live with you in peace; I don’t want to be part of some fucked-up magical royal family.”

Regina gave her lover a full-body squeeze and ran a soothing hand up and down her lean, strong torso. She knew this feeling all too well – born and pushed into a life you never wanted nor cared for.

“You were born a princess. You were born with magic. And you were born to be The Savior, but that doesn’t have to define who you are. Let’s get through this next…hurdle and once it’s over, if you want to abdicate your responsibilities, I support you.”

“You do?”

“Of course.”

The women lay in silence for several minutes, enjoying the quiet and calming embrace. Regina felt every breath, every sigh escaping from her girlfriend. She realized Emma needed two things: confidence and stress relief. The blonde was clearly troubled, Regina chuckled to herself: Emma had been pillowed on her chest for 20 minutes and never once tried to grope her. An evil smirk crossed the former queen’s face as she realized how she could meet both of Emma’s needs in a deliciously fun way.

“What’s so funny?” Emma asked, suspicious, as she felt her lover’s chest ripple with laughter.

“You make me smile. Now, come, you have a magic lesson.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“You have no choice,” Regina pointed out merrily. “You need to start feeling better and you will once you have better command and control of your magic. And there is only one way to get that.”

“Cheat?”

“Very amusing. Meet me in the parlor in 5 minutes.”

Exactly 5 minutes later, Emma found herself on time and on the edge of the couch, a thick candle sitting in front of her on the coffee table.

“Picture your magic as a raging wildfire.”

Emma laughed. “That’s easy.” She stared at the candle, picturing an inferno. The wick caught fire, the flame immediately jumping several inches.

“Now, your job is to focus and reduce that to the size of a normal candle flame.”

“How exactly?”

“First, you need to imagine it shrinking slowly; use your emotions to fuel your desire.”

Eyes trained solely on the candle, Emma heard the click of Regina’s heels as she walked to her side. “What is your strongest emotion?”

“Love for you.” Emma’s statement was so quick, firm and sincere, the brunette blushed.

Pulling her attention from the candle, Emma turned when she heard Regina’s breath hitch. “It’s true.” The flame puffed out dramatically.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. It’s just…it’s so lovely. No one’s ever said that to me before,” she admitted. “I’m used to channeling magic from hatred, anger, revenge. This…this is wonderful.”

“Well, get used to it.” Emma smiled adoringly.

Pointing to the candle, Regina redirected the blonde’s focus and walked around to the opposite side of the coffee table. “Moving on. Think about our love, relight it and then imagine the flame moving higher.”

Emma leaned forward in concentration, arms outstretched, fingers splayed. The wick caught fire once again, the flame rising slowly and surely.

“Very good. Now lower it. If you feel out of control, you need to channel your emotion. Think of our love and then….” She trailed off, searching for a good metaphor. “Picture looking through a camera at this candle, but it’s extremely blurry. Imagine focusing the picture until it’s crystal clear and pin sharp.”

Regina watched the flame lengthen and shorten as Emma concentrated, breathing low and slow.

“Excellent,” she praised.

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Extinguish the candle.”

Emma imagined it snuffing out and within a second it did just that.

“Cool!”

“You see? I’m not exaggerating. Given your inherent powers and the fact you’ve been a practitioner for less than a day, your progress is outstanding.”

Moving to Emma’s side once more, Regina lowered her head and kissed the blonde’s lips lustily, then gently bit her student’s top lip, releasing it with a snap.

“I like these lessons.”

“I’m sure you do,” Regina observed with a lecherous chuckle. “Let’s try something more advanced. I’ll tell you to lower or lengthen the flame.”

“Heh. No problem.”

She rested her cheek against Emma’s and whispered the reminder of the plan.

“Follow my commands for 15 minutes without losing control and I will reward you,” she promised, licking the sensitive skin under Emma’s ear. “Greatly.”

A shudder ripped through Emma’s body as the candle immediately ignited once more, the flame flaring 6 inches.

“That didn’t count!” the blonde protested.

“I agree.” Leaving Emma’s side to remove any physical temptation, she walked to the wingback chair in the opposite corner.

“Ready?”

Emma nodded, eyes trained only on the flame.

“Raise it by, say, 3 inches and hold it,” Regina commanded, low and hypnotic. She waited 10 seconds, then continued. “Lower it 1 inch and hold.”

The flame did as Emma willed, moving up and down on Regina’s orders. After 5 minutes, convinced her lover’s control was established, the witch stood and took two steps toward the coffee table, just at the edge of Emma’s eye line.

“Raise 5 inches and hold.” Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Regina beginning to move. _What the—?_ She doubled her concentration, a sliver of her vision focused on her girlfriend, who was slowly unbuttoning her crisp, white Oxford shirt.

“Lower 1 inch and hold, please,” she requested, as if nothing was awry.

Emma scooted the flame down, but it was harder, less smooth now that a tiny portion of her attention was preoccupied with the woman whose shirt was unbuttoned, hanging loose, exposing the taunt, tan planes of her abdomen.

“Up a foot, Emma, and hold.”

The blonde blinked and shook her head slightly to refocus. The click of high heels came closer, stopping in front of the coffee table, behind the flame. The fire remained in focus, but in the fuzzy background Emma saw – and heard – a white blur hit the floor.

“No fair, Regina,” Emma complained, shifting her eyes for a millisecond to see the woman standing proudly in a black lace bra. The flame shook, but held.

“Focus,” she breathed, reaching for her zipper, inching it down slowly. “Remember, no control, no reward. Lower halfway and hold.”

The teasingly slow metallic click-click-click of the zipper teeth releasing sounded as loud as firecrackers in the silent room. Beads of sweat began to collect on Emma’s forehead, as she grit her teeth, trying to maintain her tunnel vision.

“No fair,” she repeated, half warning, half whining.

“And what part of magic do you think is fair? Up 3 inches and hold.”

As Emma guided the flame higher she heard Regina step out of her heels, her black dress pants pooling on the floor.

“Unnnnnnh,” she groaned in frustration, sneaking a peek at her lover, who had stepped back into her heels, now a pin-up come to life: black garter, stockings, stilettos and bra. A wet dream just out of focus – and out of reach.

“Trouble, darling?” Regina drawled innocently. “Up as high as you can go without scorching my ceiling, please, then lower to a normal height.”

The flame raced unsteadily higher as Emma clenched her teeth and wiped sweat out of her eyes. Her desire was barely in check, fighting against the flame for control as she listened to Regina walk around the room, virtually naked, in fuck-me heels. Warm from the candle, concentration and her emotions, arousal began to pool in her briefs leaving her slick and sliding, unable to find any friction, purchase or relief. She had never been so turned on in her life.

“Control,” Regina commanded in a breathy hiss. “Don’t mind me, I’m just tidying up. Continue with your studies.” Emma could hear the satisfied smirk in her voice. “Lower 4 four inches and hold.”

The brunette stopped in front of the coffee table once more, her back to Emma. “Would you look at this?” she asked in mock wonder. “Our naughty son left a sneaker right out in the open.”

She was standing just enough in Emma’s field of vision so the blonde could see her bend over fully at the waist, legs and ass on glorious display.

The flamed surged briefly, Emma blinking desperately to regain control. Regina clucked her tongue a few times in mock disapproval. “That was close,” she warned. “Oh, silly me, it wasn’t a shoe. I must be seeing things.”

“I swear to God, Regina, I will make you pay for this,” she smiled through gritted teeth, her voice pure steel.

The once-evil queen stalked over and leaned into Emma, her bare skin cool against the overheated blonde, perfume engulfing her student’s heightened senses. “I’m counting on it,” she breathed seductively. “Extinguish the flame.”

The fire was invisibly smothered immediately, a thin tendril of smoke curling toward the ceiling. Both women froze in position; Emma feared if she moved too quickly she’d come on the spot.

“You passed, Emma. Well done,” Regina purred, sweeping aside a large swath of blonde hair, licking and sucking on her lover’s neck.

Emma groaned and leapt off the couch.

“Floor!” she commanded through lust-blown pupils as she tried to set a world record for removing her clothes.

Regina slowly, gracefully sank to the rug, then lay on her back, propped up on her elbows, legs daintily crossed at the ankles. When Emma approached, naked and nearly feral, Regina ran her tongue across her even white teeth as she uncrossed her ankles, pulled up her legs and let them slowly splay open.

“Come and get your reward.”

XXXX

“Emma looks much better.”

Snow and Regina stood off in the wings of the town hall stage, watching people take their seats. Emma and David were already sitting in the front row, smiling and talking animatedly with those around them.

“She is. After Henry went to school, she caught up on some sleep, we had a magic lesson and…relaxed.”

The former queen blushed uncontrollably at the thought of their relaxation, how thoroughly they defiled the Oriental rug in the parlor.

Snow bit her cheek, trying to hold back a smirk at the red staining Regina’s cheeks. “That sounds lovely,” she noted casually, looking out at the crowd. “How is she feeling about her magic?”

“Better, I would say. We ran through several control exercises and I’m surprised – she has much better control than I would have thought, given yesterday. She just needs to concentrate, channel her emotions, and focus. She will get much more skilled. It takes time.”

The women fell silent, the gravity of the event taking hold. Regina looked down to find Snow wringing her hands.

“May I offer you some advice?”

Snow nodded.

Regina held the woman firmly on both forearms, her gaze strong, but kind.

“These people need a leader right now. They need a queen. Do not hesitate. Do not apologize. Be firm, but benevolent. Give them the royalty they remember and crave, that will assuage some of their fears.”

Snow nodded. “I’m worried about Emma. People are going to be very angry tonight. What if she gets upset and her magic acts up?”

“I put a mild dampening spell on her – with her consent. It will keep her powers under control. I agree, the last thing we want is another…incident.”

“That’s good, but can’t you just keep the spell on her all the time? She wouldn’t have to worry about controlling her magic.”

“But her magic is _good_. It’s part of who she is and I would argue against neutering it. The more I use a binding spell on her, the less touch and control she would have over her powers should she ever decide to use them. She _will_ gain control.”

Regina took her seat next to Emma as Mary Margaret approached the podium. David joined her on stage to her immediate left.

“Thank you for coming. I am here today to update you on recent and upcoming events.” Snow’s voice was strong and unemotional as she gazed dispassionately, dismissively, across the standing-room-only hall.

Emma turned to Regina, raising her eyebrows in confusion. This was not her mother.

“What is this?”

“That,” Regina whispered, “is a queen.”

“Yesterday, it was discovered that my daughter Emma possesses magical powers. This is something we did not know until it surfaced quite unexpectedly. I want to assure you Emma is already working on controlling and learning about her magic. She is under Regina’s instruction.”

The crowd immediately erupted, a series of yells, shouts and gasps filling the air.

“Why is she working with the Evil Queen? Are you mad?” Jefferson’s voice rose above the din. Emma reached for Regina’s hand, offering a supportive squeeze.

“If you address me with such disrespect again, I will have you thrown in a cell,” Snow admonished coolly. “I no longer recognize that name. There is no more evil queen.”

“But how can you trust her?” Granny yelled, quickly adding an obedient, “Your Majesty.”

Snow looked down as if to collect her thoughts, then lifted her head and spoke. “Because Emma loves and trusts Regina, as do Charming and I.”

The crowd gasped again. “Regina and Emma – your crown princess - are in a committed relationship, raising their son – the second in line to the throne,” Snow noted. She wasn’t sure if the townspeople were going to support a monarchy going forward, but old habits seemed to be dying hard, so she went with the tactic she felt would work best.

Regina raised her hand from the front row.

“Regina?”

Acknowledged, the brunette rose and offered a deferential nod to Snow before turning toward the crowd.

“If I may, Emma’s magic is light. I do not possess the power to darken it and use it for untoward purposes. It’s good magic, which can be used to heal and benefit the town and its people. Isn’t that right, Rumple?”

The dignified man rose slowly, leaning on his cane. “Regina is correct.”

“I trust him even less than I trust you!” Granny spat, unsatisfied. “Blue, are they speaking the truth?”

The fairy rose. “They are correct,” she acknowledged smoothly.

Crowd seemingly placated, Regina sat once more. Rumple followed suit, amused and alone, as Snow continued her statement. He loved situations rife with uncertainty and fear, verging on the edge of chaos. He exhaled slowly in delight; it had been a long time since he enjoyed such a riot of emotions swirling around him. He, The Dark One - the lone still, stable force - sat smugly, untouched and unaffected.

But then he felt it. It was quick, darting into his consciousness and retreating in a millisecond. He narrowed his eyes in concentration. There it was again.

Something was off.

Quiet, quick notes of discord, flittered in and out of his senses, like an underscore to a movie scene. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to pinpoint the source, to no avail.

“Now, to the matter of the old land, in three days’ time I will hold court here. You are welcome to attend and share your grievances and petitions regarding the former Queen’s actions that brought us to Storybrooke. I will call a council of advisors to assist me in determining her fate.”

“But, Your Grace,” started Addinell, the baker, “you say your daughter is courting the Evi—, uh, the former queen. How can we expect a fair punishment?”

“I know it has been a long time, but are you questioning my ability to rule fairly, Addinell?”

“No! No, of course not, Your Majesty, I just—”

“Relax before you hurt yourself, baker. I will compose a fair council.” Snow looked across the room. “Mrs. Marr, will you serve?”

The woman started with surprise, then smiled sickly. “Of course, Your Grace.”

“Tillman? Where are you?”

“Here, Your Majesty,” replied the mechanic, standing up.

“Will you serve?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“There you have it,” Snow explained as if she were talking to her classroom of 9-year-olds. “The man who sent my daughter to the hospital and the woman who ordered her son to attack my grandson have been impaneled. Happy now?”

Addinell nodded furiously, anxious for his turn in the spotlight to be over.

Wide-eyed, Emma nudged Regina, who tried to bite back a smirk at her girlfriend’s reaction to royalty and its subjects. She shrugged in response to the silent question. This was, in essence, court life.

“Any further comments or questions?” Snow asked, clear that she desired the answer to be No.

“Very well,” she repeated sternly. “You have three days. On your way.”

As Snow strode regally off stage into the wings, Regina turned to Charming. “I shouldn’t be anywhere near Snow until the council. Please tell her I thought she handled that masterfully.”

David smiled. “That will mean a lot, thank you.”

“What the hell? That’s the council – Mary-Margaret, Tillman and Marr? They’ll hang her!” Emma argued in disbelief.

“It’s not the whole council,” David explained calmly. “She’ll add family allies. It’s all for show, really, she has the final say. Don’t worry.”

Concern furrowed Emma’s brow as she hugged her father. “Tell Mary-Margaret I’ll call her tonight.”

Across the room, Blue held her own court, counseling worried townspeople and assuaging fears as person after person approached her for reassurance. She nodded and smiled, only half listening as she worked through her own plan in her head. _Three days. Much to do and little time._

Snow appeared from the side of the room, but was intercepted by Rumple as she tried to join her husband.

“Miss Blan—, excuse me, Your Grace. A moment please?”

Snow nodded, leading him to a corner.

“Something is coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you recall our discussion in the fall?”

“Of course.”

“I felt it today. There was a dark energy in this room, right here.”

“Dark magic was being used?”

“No, but I could feel a tiny thread, a remnant, if you will. All the energies in the room were aligned as they should have been, except for one.”

Snow look confused.

“Imagine hearing your favorite piece of music, one you know by heart. And then, suddenly, the musician plays a wrong note. Then another. And another. That’s what I experienced. But the wrong notes, so to speak, were not loud enough or consistent enough for me to find the source.”

“So you don’t know who is responsible?”

“Alas, no. But I can tell you, it’s not Regina. If we were in the same room and she had been dabbling in the dark arts again, her signature would be unmistakable to me. She is not at fault.”

Snow exhaled. _Thank God._

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Consider it my one good deed.”

“Why?”

“Because evil is coming and if you win, I want you to remember that I helped.”

“Will you stand with us?”

Rumple unleashed a merry, high-pitched giggle. “Of course not. I’m a businessman, an opportunist, Your Majesty,” he explained as if she had never met the man. “My only allegiance is to myself. I am the most powerful force in this land, I don’t need you or whoever – or whatever – is on its way. I am neutral. No matter who emerges victorious, I will always be the winner.”

XXXX

Blue finally extricated herself from the throng and, after assuring Snow she did a tremendous job, found herself one of the last people leaving town hall.

It had been an unseasonably warm day for February in Maine; even long after sunset temperatures were still in the high 40s. Blue turned down numerous offers of rides home in favor of walking the short distance to clear her head and organize her thoughts. These idiotic people were incredibly draining and the woman only had 72 hours to prepare her plan before it would be executed.

“May I walk you home, Mother?”

The voice came out of nowhere, cheerful, carefree and loud. Blue startled with a shriek, “By the gods!”

“Walkin’ home? Me, too! This weather is too wonderful to pass up, am I right? I’m sure we’ll have a snowstorm any day so why would I want to waste this, huh? We may not see it again until late March!”

Breathing returned to normal, the fairy continued her path home. “Indeed, um…”

“It’s me, Happy!”

“Ah, yes, how silly of me. I am so sorry, my child. It’s so dark out here and my eyesight is not what it used to be, forgive me.”

“Sure!” he chirped gleefully, witless smile plastered across his face.

“May I walk you home? I would feel better knowing you were safe. You never know what’s lurking around at night, am I right?”

“Of course,” she lied, unable to quickly think up a way to get rid of him.

The miner fell in step with the woman, prattling nonstop.

“Where were the sisters tonight? I thought they’d be here!”

“Ah, yes. They are on a silent retreat and must remain cloistered in the mother house for the next three days.” The fairy smiled to herself, proud that she thought to magically seal the doors that morning to prevent any curious parties from leaving.

The pair continued through the darkened streets. Blue tuned out the motor-mouthed miner, tossing in “Hmmms” and “Yeses” to appease while she ran through her list of to-dos in her head. Roots: prepared. Fairy dust: secured. Wand, well, of course. _The only other component I need is a…_

“…heart, am I right? We have to have faith in the Queen, take heart in her leadership. I love Snow, I know she will do right by us! Am I right?”

“You are _so_ right,” she agreed, a sick grin twisting across her face, hidden by the shadows.

As the pair reached the convent steps, Blue turned toward her new companion.

“May I impose upon you for one more favor?”

“Sure!” he grinned.

She led the way to the convent’s garage and opened it, gesturing at the sisters’ lone car. “I saw Fitzroy at the market the other day and he had stumbled across what he thought was a new source of diamonds - in the woods.”

_“In the woods?”_

“I know, I was surprised, too. He brought me a small sample. Would you look at them and tell me if you think they are true diamonds or worthless stones? I simply can’t tell.”

Blue opened the driver’s side door and popped the trunk. “I left them in here.” The dwarf followed the town’s spiritual compass to the rear of the car and peered in.

“I don’t see them!” he noted enthusiastically, turning to face the fairy. “Where—?”

Blue plunged her hand into the dwarf’s chest, his eyes wide with shock, yet his lips still stuck in a dopey smile. The fairy used his crumbling momentum to push him into the trunk, snapping his neck on the way in as she pulled his heart out.

She slammed the lid with a thud, tucking the glowing heart in the folds of her cape.

“Idiot.”

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating bumps up to M with this chapter due to sexy times. You're welcome. Thanks as always to Alaska829Snow for answering my weird questions and beta-ing smut.

"OK, let's go over this again."

David, Emma and Leroy sat around their desks at the station, maps unfolded and whiteboard full, the scent of stale coffee, anxiety and exhaustion in their air.

"The last time anyone saw Happy was at the meeting at town hall Friday night," David stated, pointing to the timeline on the board, quickly moving down to the next marker.

"He wasn't reported missing until five o'clock last night." He turned to Leroy. "Almost 24 hours. Really? No one knew he was gone?"

"Hey, I live with the guy but I'm not his keeper. It was a Saturday, no one had work or anything. The guys do their own thing on weekends – camp, fish, whatever. Sometimes he'd get up early and do, shit, I dunno." He grunted in frustration. "It wasn't weird for him to skip breakfast."

"Cookie didn't see him before breakfast?"

"No, he's not a nanny. Listen, Cookie does one thing: He cooks. On weekends, breakfast is at 7 a.m. If you're not there, you eat elsewhere. Guys miss breakfast all the time. It's a boarding house - can go in and out without getting near the kitchen or having anyone see you. The last place anyone saw him was at the meeting. But when he didn't show up for dinner last night, we knew something was wrong."

David continued. "We searched his room, nothing was out of the ordinary."

"All his clothes and camping gear were where they should be," Emma added, perched on top of her desk. "He obviously wasn't planning an overnight."

"And he doesn't have a phone?"

Leroy kicked his heels off the desk and back down to the floor. "Right, no phone."

"Dammit," Emma sighed. "That would have been too easy."

Charming gestured at the lower half of the whiteboard. The trio had spent nearly all last night and certainly all morning questioning every business owner and resident they could find: Have you seen Happy? The answer, to a man, was "No."

"We canvassed everywhere, no one has seen him since the meeting ended around 8 p.m. Friday," Charming repeated, thinking out loud and pointing at the timeline. "No one saw him all day Saturday or today. We know he wouldn't cross the line, so there's only one place left to search."

Leroy and Emma looked at each other uneasily. "There's over 15 square miles of woods surrounding this town," Leroy huffed. "It's going to take forever. What if he's hurt?"

"Then we need to haul ass," Emma noted urgently. "Hey, has anyone talked to Blue? Can she help?"

David shook his head. "I called last night and the message on the convent line said they're in a 72-hour silent retreat and cannot be disturbed until 6 a.m. Monday."

"But it's an emergency!" Leroy argued.

"Doesn't matter, their retreats are sacred. They won't answer no matter now many times we call or bang on the door."

David walked to his desk, unfolded a map of the town and pinned it to the bulletin board.

"We'll search in a grid and get every adult we can to help. It's, what, 11?" Charming looked at his wrist. "That gives us about 6 hours of daylight. Leroy, go pull everyone you can from the Miners House and Granny's. I'll ask Snow to call around and find more volunteers. Emma, you help me divide the woods into a grid and we'll start assigning parties to areas. Everyone grab a walkie before you leave. OK?"

Leroy and Emma were about to stand up when the clicking of heels drew their attention to the hallway.

"I brought lunch," Regina announced hopefully as she strode through the door, the aroma of a hot meal trailing.

"Oh my God, what is what?" Emma drooled.

"Just spaghetti and meatballs. I figure you all need the carbs to get through this day." Regina carefully placed the large aluminum tray on the least-cluttered desk – a three-way tie for last place. She reached into a brown paper bag and pulled out cutlery, plates and drinks, handing them to a stunned Charming and Leroy.

"You don't like pasta?" she asked, confused.

"Uh, no…no," Charming started. "This is so nice of you and, wow, it smells amazing. But we were about to head out to organize search parties for Happy."

Regina nodded solemnly. "Of course, but could you spare 15 minutes to eat first? When's the last time any of you ate?" The trio looked at each other guiltily.

Emma snickered. "Does coffee count?"

"David, all three of you have been here since 6 a.m., and I know Emma didn't get home until 2 a.m. Do you think you can effectively run a missing persons operation on barely any sleep and caffeine? Would Snow want that?"

The prince smirked and pulled the foil off the tray of pasta and meat sauce with a lusty groan. "Twenty minutes," he declared. "And thank you, Regina."

David filled his plate and on the way back to his desk, grabbed the brunette in a side hug and pecked her cheek. Red tinted Regina's cheeks at the unexpected show of affection.

"Hey!" Emma yelled, loading another meatball onto her plate. "Hands off my woman…Oooh, bread!"

While the blonde ecstatically attacked the Italian bread, Regina prepared a large serving, delivering it to Leroy.

"For me?"

"I'm sorry to hear about Bernard," she noted softly.

Leroy chuckled ruefully, accepting the food.

"What?" Suspicion brought an edge to her voice as Regina waited for the other shoe to drop - a profanity, something degrading or hurtful to remind the woman that she would always be an outsider, never accepted nor liked. Emma quietly watched the scene unfold, she could practically hear the woman's walls snapping back into place; old habits died hard.

"He  _hated_  that name," the dwarf explained, as he shoveled in a mouthful of pasta. "I haven't heard that in forever. Why do you think we nicknamed him Happy?"

The miner and the former Evil Queen shared a small laugh, relief washing over the brunette's face.

"If anyone can find him, I know it will be you three."

"Thanks, sister." Regina turned and began to walk to her lover's side, when she felt a tug on her jacket. "I mean it, really."

"You're quite welcome," she smiled.

"Oh, no! No, no, no," Emma warned with a grin. "You two are  _not_  allowed to be buddies."

"Well, then, we must," Regina decided, nodding at her new friend.

"You got it," he agreed, his plate already nearly half empty. "Man, this is  _good_."

Forks in hand and phones at their ear, Charming and Leroy started making calls to lay search party groundwork while Emma pulled her girlfriend into the cell to eat and share the cot.

"Hi," she began, her voice smoky. "Come here often? Oh, wait, you do."

Regina giggled as Emma lightly kissed her lips.

"When'd you make this? I would have remembered." She enthusiastically shoveled in a mouthful of food. "Mmmmm…"

"You would have. I make wonderful sauce. I put it together this morning."

"This morning? What time did you get up? This must have taken hours, there's, like, four kinds of meat in here."

"I started shortly after you left, I couldn't sleep."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. It's just…I've become accustomed to having you sleep on top of me," she grinned, "When you're not there, I…I'd rather be up."

Emma playfully bumped into the brunette with her shoulder. "I miss you when I'm not with you, too, you know."

"No luck on Happy?"

"I wish. We checked everywhere in town, talked to everyone. We have to hit the woods."

"Will you be home for dinner?"

"I'm not sure," she confessed. "We'll search until we find him or we lose light. If he doesn't turn up, then we'll probably come back here and figure out what to do tomorrow."

Regina nodded her head. "Of course. I won't keep you, darling."

The brunette rose to leave, but stopped when Emma grabbed her hand.

"Stay? Please?" Emma craned her neck to check the clock near the bullpen. "I have another 10 minutes, hang with me while I eat? Seeing you is the best part of this shitty day."

Regina took the napkin from Emma's lap and wiped some sauce off the corner of her lips.

"I would love to," she cooed, leaning in for a kiss.

"Hey! You two! Don't make me get the hose," Leroy barked across the room, sly grin on his face.

"Nice friends you got there, lady," Emma laughed, resuming her meal.

"Indeed," she smiled.

XXXX

Fifty volunteers and eight hours later, the Sheriff was no closer to finding the missing miner. Daylight gone, the search parties retired for the night. Emma was left on call in case anything broke, the station line forwarded to her cell.

The blonde trudged home, defeated and dejected, and went straight to bed at the grand old hour of 8 p.m.

"Is Emma going to be OK?" a worried Henry asked after his uncharacteristically somber mother walked into the house, silently pecked her two loves and retired straight to bed.

"She's upset about Happy, overtired and frustrated. She'll feel better in the morning."

Regina turned in not much later, tucked into her lover's side, blonde curls blanketing her face. She fell asleep quickly, then teetered on the edge of wakefulness for an hour, a restless Emma unconsciously fidgeting in her arms.

"What?" Emma asked groggily.

The question pulled Regina into full consciousness. "You're tossing and turning," she yawned. "Are you OK?"

"Of course not," she sighed. "I'm worried Happy is dead in a ditch. I'm freaked out about whatever Gold thinks is coming, and I am petrified I'm going to lose you. My life – for once – is finally going right, I have everything I want and now a bunch of assholes could ruin it or we could be attacked by some magical mystery bullshit. I can't win."

"What do you mean, that you could lose me?"

"I just found you and now…now you could be taken away from me," Emma confessed, her voice thick with sadness as she burrowed into her lover's side.

"They're not going to take me away, love," Regina soothed, stroking Emma's lush curls. "I'm guessing it may be house arrest or some other sort of reparations. They may demand the house, but we'll just find another place to live."

Regina paused in thought.

"What?"

"Do you think your parents would mind if we moved in with them?" Regina did a fine job of pulling off an innocent tone.

Emma laughed so hard her stomach began to cramp and her eyes watered. "Oh, shit, I think I pulled a muscle. That was…you  _are_  funny, you know that?"

The women lay on their sides, face to face. Regina pulled the blonde into a hug, cradling her head and that wild shock of hair. "I don't care where I live, as long as I have you."

Emma pulled back a touch, so she could grab her girlfriend's gaze, her emerald eyes as huge, soft and sincere as Regina had ever seen. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you," she breathed.

The former evil queen chuckled. "I think that's my line."

Regina leaned in and captured Emma's lips in a series of soft kisses, raining pecks on her nose, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth. They were meant to comfort, but the blonde wanted more. Emma gently snaked her tongue into Regina's mouth. The brunette giggled at the action, stroking the strong muscle with her lips, soon abandoning it to capture Emma's top lip. The women remained forehead-to-forehead, smiling as their tongues languidly played a very adult game of hide and seek, darting in and out of each other's mouths, sucking, stroking, slipping and sliding. Unlike past makeout sessions, frantic and fast, this was slow, gentle and playful.

"Emma…"

Regina couldn't state more, her mouth full of Emma's insistent tongue.

"Mmmm, Emma…"

The blonde pulled away, eyes questioning.

"Let me make love to you."

Emma smiled, shyly dipping her head. Regina sat up and removed her pajama top, then repeated the action on Emma, also sliding off her pants and boy shorts.

Regina confidently sat at the head of the bed, her back against the headboard, legs spread wide.

"Come here," she purred, backing the blonde into her, Emma's back to Regina's front. The brunette's silky pajama pants felt smooth, warm and decadent against Emma's quickly cooling skin as she laid back, Regina taking her weight. Emma's abundant hair was like satin, tickling Regina's bare chest.

"Relax," she ordered softly, running her fingers up and down the smooth planes of Emma's abdomen. Regina lowered her lips to Emma's neck, licking and sucking as she rubbed and caressed Emma's nipples. Unlike the magic lesson, in which Regina was teasing, arousing and challenging, here she was all about love, a pure expression of adoration and unity.

Cradled in her lover's arms, Emma looped her legs over Regina's, hooking her feet back under the brunette's ankles in an attempt to find purchase and offer the best access.

"Unnnnn…" she groaned, shifting her hips trying to ease the ache rising in her core.

"I know, love, all in due time. Stay with me."

Regina kept her left hand massaging Emma's breasts and stomach, the right trailing down to her groin, slowly sweeping through closely-cropped curls and easily sliding down the length of her sex and back to the apex thanks to the blonde's copious arousal.

Regina caressed Emma's overheated folds, her thumb making lazy, slow circles on her clit. She nearly gasped; she had never seen Emma so wet, so hard and so ready.

"You're so beautiful, darling. I love you so much."

Emma lifted her hips, trying to force more pressure on her aching bud.

"Oh, God," she hissed, turning her head toward the bedroom door. "I can't—"

Regina removed her lips from Emma's earlobe. "Don't worry," she whispered, regretfully releasing her lover's breast to flick her wrist 180 degrees. "There," she sighed, returning her hand to massage a nipple. "No sound will leave this room."

Emma felt Regina's tongue on her neck, wet, hot and demanding, matching the pace of the fingers circling her clit. Both started out in wide, unhurried paths, but were now moving faster and tighter, pushing Emma higher, far beyond a peak she thought she could reach. She began to mewl, aching for release, but still holding back. As her head lay on Regina's chest, she could hear her lover's heartbeat race in sync with her exertion, the low tones of her words sending rippling vibrations across the side of her face.

The blonde's hand, which had been white-knuckled gripping the sheets, found her chest, removing Regina's hand from her breast and lacing their fingers together, resting atop her heart.

"I can't lose you," Emma panted desperately, as she pumped her hips faster and faster. "I can't lose you. I can't lose you."

"I'm here. Stay with me."

Racing toward climax, the Savior strained frantically toward relief, bucking and gasping with overwhelming pleasure.

"Let go, Emma. I've got you, just let go."

The heady scent of arousal enveloped the room as Regina suddenly stopped stroking and pressed firmly on Emma's clit, the direct pressure she knew would send her lover over the edge.

"I'm yours," she breathed, "you know that, right?"

Seconds away from frenzied release, Emma lacked the brain cells to form words, all thought and concentration focused on the impending wave of pleasure about to wash over her.

Regina' voice was low, nearly hypnotic: "I am yours and you are mine."

Emma gritted out a single syllable, drawing it out lengthily amidst an animalistic cry: "Yes…yes! YES!"

She quickly unhooked her legs from beneath Regina's ankles and pressed her feet flat on the bed, pressing up and bowing her torso off the sweat-slicked brunette to choke out her sweet relief. Her orgasm was explosive, equal parts guttural growl and uncontrolled roar - pure catharsis.

Emma's body shook with aftershocks as Regina continued to thrum her fingers, drawing out another powerful orgasm as the blonde held herself aloft, whimpering and crying in exertion and satiation.

Regina immediately was thankful she sound-proofed the room, Emma's climax was so loud, so violent-sounding, there was no doubt it would have not only awakened their son, but also sent him crashing into their room thinking his mothers were being attacked.

She gently brought Emma down after she lowered herself and leaned back into Regina once more. Emma's face was beat-red from exertion, blood thundering in her ears, nearly lightheaded from the experience. As the blonde's breathing began to regulate, Regina slowly removed her fingers, wiping them on the inside of Emma's thigh and stroking the outside in calm, soothing caresses.

Still breathing heavily, Emma removed her left hand from Regina's grasp, slowly sat up and gently turned over, lying the length of her body on her lover, tucking her head into the brunette's neck as if she were ready to sleep once more. The couple remained that way, Emma's breath tickling Regina's neck as they breathed in unison. No words were necessary. The women lay content, holding each other, feeling boneless, desires slaked, peaceful and happy.

The shrill tone of Emma's cell broke the pristine silence.

"Shit!" Emma rolled over and on wobbly legs, found her jeans on the floor and fished out her cell. "Sheriff!" she barked.

Regina looked on as Emma's brow furrowed, followed by a grimace.

"What? Hello? Who is this? Hello? Are you O— Fuck!"

"Who was that?"

"I don't know. All I heard was a voice saying that they found Happy at the toll bridge and to get out there right away. Then they kinda yelled and the line went dead."

Emma's eyes widened. "Christ, I hope someone didn't find Happy then get jumped." The Savior flew around the room rounding up new clothes, jumping into jeans and a hoodie. She shrugged on a shoulder holster, retrieved her gun from the nightstand safe, then followed with her parka.

"Did it sound like a man or a woman?"

"I couldn't tell, he, she, it…was done talking before I figured out what they were saying: 'I found Happy. He's at the toll bridge. Come quick.' That was it. Then kinda like a yell, then a dead line."

She sat on Regina's side of the bed quickly slipping on socks and lacing her boots.

"I gotta go. I don't know when I'll be back. I'll text you when I can."

She stood and zipped her parka, retrieving a knit hat from her pocket and pulling it on her head.

"What about your father and Leroy?"

Emma smiled wide. "Your new best friend? I'll call them on the way, they can meet me."

Regina looked up, worried. "I don't like you going alone."

"I don't, either, but if this person's in trouble, if Happy needs me, I can't wait. The guys will be right behind me."

Regina's throat was tight. "Promise me you'll be careful. I love you."

"I will be careful," she assured. "And I love you." Emma bent for a brief kiss, cupping Regina's face in her hands. "You are my everything."

Emma looked over her shoulder one last time as she strode out of the bedroom, blowing a kiss.

XXXX

As a teenager, Emma knew the skills of driving with one's knees would come in handy someday. She smiled to herself at her impressive foresight, watching the needle touch 80 as she tore down the main drag, dialing her backup. She rousted her deputies out of warm beds and told them to haul ass; they had their best lead in nearly 48 hours.

Emma pulled over at the start of the bridge, throwing the cruiser into park and grabbing her flashlight. The headlights cut through the inky black dark of the Maine woods, illuminating the block-lettered sign announcing her location. Exiting the car, Emma watched her breaths escape in rhythmic white puffs; the temperatures had dropped back to normal February levels, near freezing.

Her headlights and flashlight uncovered no one on the bridge. She leaned over and began walking the length to check the half-frozen river below when she heard it. "Help!" She squinted her eyes and flashed her beam around, as if that would help amplify the noise and pinpoint a location. "Help! Help!" There it was again but, now, it sounded like two voices.  _Happy_ and _the mystery caller?_

Emma checked her phone – the guys would still be about 10 minutes out at best. She was mentally cursing at them colorfully in her head when she heard the distant yell again, her best guess it was coming from somewhere in the woods off to her right.

The Savior checked her phone one more time, willing David and Leroy to the spot. She strained to hear an engine in the distance, nothing. But there it was again. "Help! Help!"

_Godammit!_

Praying that A. Regina would forgive her, and B. that she never found out in the first place, Emma began running toward the noise into the woods.

"Hold on! I'm coming!"

The pleas for help grew louder the deeper she ventured, but suddenly stopped when her beam swept across the forest floor and landed on a body - what appeared to be a very dead Happy.

"Oh, shit. No! Hello! Is anyone else out here?"

Emma dove to the ground and reached for Happy's neck, hoping against hope for a pulse, but all she found was his head twisted at a grotesque angle.

"Emma, is that you?"

The blonde head snapped up at the new voice. She heard the crackle of approaching footsteps off to the right. She turned and swung her flashlight around to find…

"Blue?"

The fairy, calmly resplendent in her navy cloak, nodded.

"What the hell are you doing out here? Did you call me? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she smiled sickeningly, her voice oddly sing-song and thin.

Despite being bundled under a warm parka, every hair on Emma's neck rose, every internal alarm in her body blaring like a klaxon.

"Uh, that's good…" she replied as casually as she could, trying to stall for time. "My Dad and Leroy are right behind me, why don't you come back to the cruiser with me? It's freezing out here."

Blue walked closer, a gleam in her eye. "Oh, my child, you know they're nowhere near here yet. It's just you and me. And Happy, of course, but I don't think he'll be much company." The spiritual compass of Storybrooke laughed at her own morbid joke.

Emma rose slowly, trying to think of a way to grab her gun, which was currently in its holster under the parka. It couldn't have been more inaccessible if she had tucked it in her underwear.

"Don't even think about your gun, Savior. It's useless."

Emma narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "OK, cut the crap, lady. What the hell is going on here?" She strained to hear footsteps, a car engine, anything to signal she wasn't completely and utterly fucked.

"I need you to come with me," she insisted, one step closer.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen. And stay where you are. Not another step."

"Oh, Emma," Blue began smugly. "I don't need another step." She removed her wand from her cloak in a heartbeat and stunned Emma unconscious, catching the blonde as she fell forward. Off in the distance but still out of sight, she could hear the sounds of an approaching Leroy and David yelling for Emma and making their way through the woods.

Blue flicked her wand once again, and the pair was gone; the only remnant - her phone on the frozen ground.

XXXX

Emma awoke, stiff and confused. Instinctively she knew to keep her eyes closed, something was off, something was very wrong. She was sitting upright, but couldn't move. She feigned sleep, trying to put the pieces together.  _Happy…woods….Blue._

A chill ran down her spine.

"You don't have to pretend, dear, I know you're awake."

Emma warily cracked an eyelid to find Blue busy at the other side of the room, her back to the blonde. She looked down; she was sitting in a chair immobile, but didn't see any restraints.

"I know you're new to magic, Emma, but isn't it  _wonderful_?" she asked fully of happy wonder, not a care in the world.

She turned and approached her guest with a pout. "What? Why so shy? What's wrong?"

The fairy smiled warmly, fingering her cloak. "Oh, wait." She stopped and shook her head in silent agreement with herself. "It's been so long, I forgot!"

Blue raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders in excitement as she waved a hand and was enveloped in a thick purple mist.

The blue of the cloak was replaced by a tasteful black pantsuit on a petite frame.

"Why hello, my dear," a voice of throaty velvet purred. "How lovely to see you again."

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews sincerely appreciated!
> 
> If you're curious, that was the plan from the minute I decided to extend the story beyond the original, three-chapter fluff-fest. In the end, I just couldn't resist the temptation of writing the queens of I-Don't-Give-A-Fuck, mano-a-mano, battling for Regina. Just too good. And it will be epic.
> 
> One request: Please don't mention the specifics of the twist in reviews, in case anyone happens to read them before this chapter. Thanks!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perpetual thanks to good friend and beta extraordinaire Alaska829Snow, whom I have traumatized for life with a portion of this chapter.

A warm stream of urine ran down Emma Swan’s legs, pooling in her crotch and darkening her skintight jeans. Even magically paralyzed, her body had an instinctual physical reaction to the abject horror that was Cora Mills.

The dark witch smiled brightly at the reaction she caused: wild, disbelieving emerald eyes, terror-blown pupils, gaping mouth and near hyperventilation. The Savior tried to calm herself and slow her rapid breathing, but it was near-impossible while staring at the most dangerous woman in any known realm.

Cora tittered without an ounce of sympathy. “Please don’t kill yourself before I get the chance, dear.”

The woman turned her back and returned to her workbench, allowing Emma the opportunity to calm and orient herself. She assessed her situation as clinically as she could. She was seated and couldn’t feel anything from the neck down. She was still nauseous from being knocked out and brought here, otherwise seemingly unharmed. As her eyes traveled the room, she spotted a window, daylight and the landscape outside. It looked… _Wait_.

“Motherfucker,” she gasped, incredulously, finally finding her voice. “Are we in Regina’s shed?”

Cora laughed darkly, turning to face her guest once more. “Technically, I believe that’s your title. But it’s so nice to know the traditional White family class has extended to another generation. Very astute, though. Yes, we are on my daughter’s property.”

“Why the hell are we here?”

“Do you think they’d look for you on your own grounds?”

_Well-played, you crazy bitch._

“Where’s Blue?”

“Quite dead, somewhere near the bottom of the well, I would think. That’s where I put that sanctimonious insect months ago.”

“So, wait…you’ve been pretending to be her for months?”

“Are you surprised? I’m insulted. It’s a simple chameleon spell.” As Cora drew closer, an evil smirk drew up the corner of her mouth. “But now, I must know: How is my daughter? I understand you two are lovers?”

The woman stepped well into Emma’s personal space, eyes oddly eager at the topic of conversation.

Emma wasn’t sure how to respond, unsure of which answer – true or not – would bring the least consequences for the love of her life. She had been taken for a reason, to either hurt her parents or Regina. She tried to stall for time and see what information she could pull from her captor.

“Don’t be modest, it’s just us girls. I won’t tell anyone.” The petite woman snickered. “I’m not your mother.”

“Regina’s good in bed, what can I say?” Emma proclaimed, trying to project nonchalance. “She’s a fun hobby, but I don’t care about her.”

“I hardly believe that.”

“Oh, it’s true,” Emma angrily countered. “There’s only two reasons to be with Regina: 1. If I stay in her good graces, I get to see my son without a shitload of hassle. 2. She’s a phenomenal lay.”

Cora eyed her warily. “Why would you ever fornicate with a person whom your mother hates so desperately?”

Emma laughed, her confidence growing with the apparent success of her plan. “You’re telling me you never slept with someone to get something you want? I thought you’d be able to smell revenge a mile away. I _hate_ my mother. She put me in a dresser and _shipped me to Maine_. I wasn’t even an hour old!” Wide, green eyes blazed with anger. “So, actually, strike what I said earlier, there’s a third reason to fuck Regina: It drives my sainted mother up the goddamn wall.”

“Snow appears quite content with your relationship.”

“It’ll kill her eventually,” Emma crowed. “Then she’s out of my hair, I get to see my son whenever I want and I have a fine piece of ass warming my bed. Not bad.”

Emma smirked and leveled a conspiratorial gaze at Cora.

“I’m a con artist, lady, a fake, a scammer. I had to be that way, do whatever I had to do to survive because I got screwed at birth. Do you understand?”

Of all people, Cora Mills certainly did - for half a minute. But no one can smell a hustle like a hustler.

“A valiant attempt, dear, but I don’t believe you. I’ve watched you and Regina for weeks. I know what love looks like. I can practically smell the weakness. You would do anything for my daughter, a disgusting family trait. I’m going to enjoy using it against her…and you.”

Cora leaned in so close Emma could smell the sticky sweet, overpowering scent of tuberoses and count the fine lines around her eyes.

“It’s a shame that we never met under different circumstances,” she whispered in her ear. “We could have been…quite a pair.”

The last time Cora got this close to Emma, she tried to plunge her hand in her chest. But now, the brunette was the picture of tenderness as she ran her fingers through lush blonde curls. An instinctive shiver of revulsion started in Emma’s neck and disappeared into unfeeling shoulders. Emma watched in horror as the back of Cora’s hand gently trailed down her cheek.

“Goodness, Regina will never change. All my hard work and she could not help but be attracted to peasants. First, that stable boy, who ruined everything. But you, you my dear Emma, _you_ will be an asset.”

Cora slowly circled Emma’s chair, then straddled the blonde, sitting on her lap.

“What is it about you that bewitched my daughter?” she wondered aloud, leaning in and placing her lips to Emma’s ear. “Well?”

“Get away from me.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” she cooed. “I want to know exactly what it was that so enchanted my dear girl.” She tenderly kissed Emma on the cheek. “Well, there is your exceptional figure…”

Cora hummed in appreciation as she held Emma’s face in her hands, then ran them down the length of the blonde’s strong body, groping her breasts, feeling her curves, caressing her hips and stroking her thighs, ending with her hand cupping Emma’s sex over damp denim.

“Seriously? You’re shitting me. You’re a fucking perv, too? Get your hands off me!”

Cora’s eyes snapped up in anger. A flick of her fingers opened a shallow gash across Emma’s cheek; she hissed in pain.

“I wouldn’t accept such insolence from my daughter, I certainly won’t from her whore.”

“You’re fucking sick.”

“Darling,” Cora chuckled as she rose to return to work. “I am the most powerful woman in existence.”

XXXX

While Emma was enduring the world’s worst-ever session of Meet The In-laws, Regina Mills was slowly, meticulously unraveling across town in Storybrooke’s most famous – and only – jail cell.

 _Of course Emma is missing. I practically signed her death warrant by loving her. Another innocent soul, sacrificed because they loved me._ Regina still wasn’t sure why Emma presumably had been taken, but given the absent parties, she was sure she was at fault somehow. That’s just the way it went. Daniel: dead. Henry: separated. Emma: missing. It was a pattern so clear, so obvious, she could have banged her head against the wall for not spotting it in time.

The result of which was she, The Charmings, Granny, Leroy, Ruby and Nova now gathered at the station to coordinate their search. It sounded so simple – a search - as if the blonde simply wandered off without a note, not left a cruiser running in the middle of the night in the middle of the woods and a phone on the ground, gone without a trace, a dead body left behind.

While the others sat in chairs around the desks, Regina was nearly curled in a ball on the cot in the open cell, trying to ground herself in something, anything, Emma. Just a day earlier the couple had shared what they had jokingly begun referring to as  _their_ cot, holding hands and basking in each other’s presence during the Sheriff’s quick lunch break. And now, here they all were, back once again, minus one very important, much loved, person. The mood grew more somber, more desperate, by the hour.

Regina sat with her back against the cement wall, knees drawn to her chest wondering what she ever did as a child that was so horrible the fates resigned her to the life she led. What had she ever done to deserve her mother, the tragic loss of her first love, a forced marriage and the ensuing forced sexual encounters and abuse?

Yes, she had turned into a monster, but surely the Moirae would have understood she was ultimately a victim molded into that role, not a natural aggressor. She lost her first love, she temporarily lost her son. And now she could picture her true love in the distance, skin-tight jeans and red leather jacket, walking away from her, down the dark road to her doom, courtesy of Regina Mills.

The image shook her so deeply she once again mentally reviewed the past 16 hours, hoping to spot something she overlooked in the ensuing shock and panic:

Snow’s middle-of-the-night frantic pounding at the door, panicked eyes and frantic plea: “We need you at the Toll Bridge.”

David and Leroy’s excruciating expressions as she approached them in the woods and found the dead dwarf – and no Emma.

Their wild dash to the cloister – retreat be damned – to demand Blue’s help.

_“Mother! We need your help! It’s an emergency.” Snow’s ear-splitting cry echoed off the stone of the arched entryway._

_David tried to open the door, and when that didn’t work, threw his shoulder into it, to equal failure._

_Leroy was removing his service piece from its holster when Regina evenly commanded, “Stand back.” The brunette held out her hands and closed her eyes in concentration, the door yielding 5 seconds later._

_David and Leroy ran through, guns drawn.“Mother! Mother!” Snow was quickly answered with muffled cries coming from the residence wing. The foursome sprinted upstairs to find the sisters all sealed in their rooms, a situation quickly resolved by Regina’s magic._

_“Oh, Snow, thank goodness!” Nova cried, flinging herself into the brunette’s arms. “Something is wrong with Mother! She locked us all in our rooms. She’s been acting strange since I caught her in the basement practicing…” the nun looked nervously at Regina, unsure of how to proceed. “Dark magic.”_

_“That can’t be,” Snow defended immediately._

_“Come, I’ll show you.”_

_The group followed Nova to the basement, leading them to the root cellar where she found Blue, nights earlier._

_“I came down here because I heard a noise. I saw Mother working with a mortar and pestle and reading a book. I could smell dark magic.”_

_Regina waved a hand in the air and tilted her head in concentration. “Dark magic was practiced here recently,” she confirmed._

_“Did she suspect you knew?”_

_“I don’t believe so, but soon she began to act odd. I was going to sneak out to talk to the Sheriff but Mother suddenly called a silent retreat and sealed us all in our rooms for the past day. We haven’t seen her since.”_

_Nova stepped back as the guests digested her update, then gasped as she spied the condition of the cellar._

_“Oh, no! Oh, dear. Oh, gods, no.”_

_“What is it?” Regina asked, her stomach dropping at the nun’s horrified expression._

_“The….our….our supply of fairy dust…” Nova trailed off absent mindedly, frantically opening and closing shelves. “It’s all gone.”_

Regina’s reverie was broken as Snow quietly walked into the station.

“And?” David looked up, bright green eyes shining hopefully.

“Gold won’t help.”

“That’s insane,” Granny spat, picking up her crossbow. “I’ll make him.”

“OK, he _will_ help, but for a price.” Snow found an empty seat next to Charming and sat, blindly reaching for his hand.

Regina grunted in disgust, her first sound in two hours. Everyone jumped, nearly forgetting the brunette was still in the room. “Naturally. What is it?”

Snow looked sheepish. “You.”

“Me?”

“He wants you dead. I refused.”

“Why?”

“He said, your ‘usefulness had run its course.’ ”

“No, I mean, why would you refuse?”

Snow looked at Regina, incredulous.

“I don’t want you dead.”

“But Emma—”

“—Emma would kill me if she ever found out we sacrificed you for her.” Snow laughed in spite of herself. “Can you imagine?” To a man, everyone tittered ruefully at the imaginary scene in their head.

Snow stood slowly and crossed the room into the jail cell, sitting gently and taking Regina’s hand.

“There’s been too much death, too much revenge, too much hatred. I want it to stop. What about Henry? He can’t lose both of his mothers.”

 _Henry_. Regina’s heart squeezed painfully at the mention of their son, whom they had stashed at the Miners House. The boy leapt at the opportunity to stay with the diminutive gang, hoping there were more dwarves like Leroy. They sold the visit as a secret mission while the adults handled urgent “town business.” She hated to lie to him – again – but she, Snow and David agreed that worrying over Emma wouldn’t help the situation, or the child, one bit. _“We will protect your son with our lives, Majesty,” Doc sincerely promised Snow and Regina, both wondering if he was referring to the other. He placed a hand on both of their arms. “Now go.”_

“We will find Emma, safe and sound, so we can all get back to our lives, to our family,” Snow declared firmly, punctuating the last two words with a gentle squeeze of their joined hands.

Regina nodded, “Of course. So where do we go from here?”

David caught her eye her from across the room, scared to even voice the question. “Can you, um, sense anything?”

“No,” she admitted shakily. “But I know she’s not…she’s alive, somewhere. I’m certain if she weren’t I would be able to feel it.” _And would most likely immediately follow suit._

“Well, no one has seen Emma or Blue in the usual places,” Granny noted. “When do we start a grid search?”

Leroy looked at the desks dejectedly, the search maps for Happy still sitting unfolded. They hadn’t even had time to put them away. “Right fucking now.”

“We’ve got, what, three hours until court? It’s a start,” David declared.

“You’re still holding court?” Ruby jumped up, eyes wild. “Are you crazy?”

“Ruby!”

Snow held up a palm at Granny, silently urging her to stand down. “We’re not going to hold court, but if we gather everyone together, we can explain what’s happening and they can help us search. We’ll find Emma and Blue and worry about court later.”

“Do you still want the kids at the library?”

“Yes. Let’s keep everything as we planned,” he replied assuredly, turning to the waitress. “Adults at town hall. Children to the library. You and Belle have that ready?”

“Yup. Giant daycare so the adults can talk and whatever.”

Granny couldn’t resist the jab. “They’ve got you in the right place, girl.”

David couldn’t help snorting at the dig while Leroy laughed at Ruby flipping off her unknowingly grandmother behind her back.

“All right, children,” Snow announced, sounding like she was back in the classroom. “Let’s get moving.”

“Wait!” Nova stood up, from her corner chair and walked toward the desks. “What about Mother?”

David and Snow looked at each other, each worriedly telegraphing the same thought.

“I think when we find Emma, we’ll find Blue,” he conceded. “A search for Emma is a search for Blue.”

Snow, David, Ruby, Nova and Granny hovered over the maps on the desks while Leroy snuck off to the cell.

“You holdin’ up?”

Regina nodded silently.

“Listen, I know Emma,” he lectured. “She wouldn’t risk everything she has for nothing. Something was wrong and she’s trying to make it right. You think she won’t put up a fight?”

The miner and the former queen shared a sorrowful smirk. “She’ll fight for herself, for you. I see her look at you and it’s like she has everything in the world. It’s so annoying, ya know? But, hey, she had a shit childhood. You think she’s gonna give that all up now that she’s hit the lottery?”

Regina looked hopefully at her most-surprising ally, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I gotta go find your girl. You hang in there.”

XXXX

Emma survived getting felt up by her prospective mother-in-law, a situation so bizarre she almost wished the woman could have grabbed her heart instead.

Cora was presently occupied mixing and muttering across the room. Staring at the reality in front of her, Emma Swan knew one thing was true:

She was going to die at the hands of a Mills woman, it was just a tossup as to which one.

_If this crazy bitch doesn’t kill me first, Regina will do me in for getting captured in the first place._

A peal of nervous laughter escaped her lips. Her acceptance of her impending death was almost freeing, causing her to giggle uncontrollably. _My fucking shitty life was awesome for about 10 minutes and now it’s almost over. Hooray!_ It was so wildly unfair, so unflinchingly horrible, she couldn't help but laugh hysterically.

Cora sighed in disappointment as she turned around. “Please tell me you haven’t gone mad. If you’re already unsound this will not be as amusing for me as I planned.”

Emma sniffed, unable to wipe her eyes or the stop the laughter-induced tears running down her face thanks to binding spell. She decided to be honest, why not, she had nothing left to lose. _Smoke-’em-if-you-got-’em_. “No, I just realized I’m fucked.”

“Your language is worse than a pirate. Surely, you’re the most lowborn royal I’ve ever met. Your grandmother would be rolling over in her grave.”

“The one you put her in? And don’t call me ‘Shirley’. ” Peals of laughter rang out once more.

Cora squinted her eyes in confusion, but continued. “Of course I disposed of your sainted grandmother. How else could I get my daughter on the throne where she belongs? A throne she threw away – _a mother she threw away_ – despite all my hard work, to bring everyone to this backwater hovel.” Brown eyes turned black and stormy in an instant as the petite woman transformed from overly polite hostess into an incandescent rage aggressor in mere seconds.

“Hey, it’s getting dark. You want me to light a candle? It’s the only magic I know.” Emma giggled at the absurdity of it all. “You better watch out, I’ll brown you like a marshmallow.”

Control restored and emotions checked once more, Cora sniffed, unimpressed at the blonde’s apparent breakdown. “I have no idea what that is, but you’re obviously lying to me. You’re clearly unhinged.”

“What’s your plan here?” Emma had calmed her giggling to a random snort. “Seeing as I’m going to be involved whether I like it or not, I think it’s fair I know what’s coming.”

“I don’t believe in fair. It’s a concept lauded by those in power who dictate what that means. But since I am in charge here and quite magnanimous, why not?”

Cora spun on a heel and regally glided over to the workbench and back, now holding the mortar in which she had been working all day.

“How is my grandson?” she inquired innocently, a leonine smile slowly stretching across her face.

Emma immediately paled at the reference, all amusement vanishing in an instant.

“Henry, right? Regina is such a sentimental fool, naming another soul for her impotent father. My heavens, I hope your boy has a backbone.”

Emma instinctively jerked as much as her paralyzed body would allow as she watched the woman approach and calmly unveil her plan.

“You know, when we met in old land, I had no idea you were involved, let alone that you shared a son. Until you told me, of course.”

Abject horror gripped the woman at the realization.

“Regina is a lost cause, she’s proven that. I need a fresh start with a young apprentice. I’ll instruct dear Henry how to truly yield power like a king. Of course there will be a regency until he’s of age, but by then…” Cora laughed, imagining her plan come to fruition. “By then, well, he’ll need no instruction at all. Power will be instinct, unyielding and strong. And I will be at his side, his loving grandmother.”

Cora leaned forward with a mock pout. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but neither you nor my daughter were ever my goal, just collateral damage. Along with your parents, of course, and anyone who is foolish enough to stand in my way.”

“You fucking bitch! Stay the fuck away from—”

Emma was halted in mid-sentence with a relaxed wave of Cora’s fingers, the gesture leaving her now completely paralyzed and mute.

“I’ve endured enough of your foul mouth, you common whore,” she snarled. Cora began to pace the room, thinking out loud.

“Now, you and I will attend this court your parents have called. We will announce our presence, humiliate my daughter, kill your parents and retrieve my Henry.” The witch stopped in front of Emma, trying to gauge her reaction across a face frozen in rictus.

“Oh, I can see the question in your eyes,” she smiled warmly. “Once we get Henry, I will get Regina to kill you, forever ruining her memory in your son’s eyes. Don’t worry, there are spells for that, I will make it look like she truly turned evil once more. I will try, and fail, to save you, and in the process _finally_ kill Regina, earning his loyalty to me, his sole remaining family member. And a new era begins. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The brunette smiled brightly as if she was conversationally addressing a toddler. Once again, she perched herself on Emma’s lap, facing her in a straddle. “Now I usually would just grab your heart and control you that way, but you have proven quite impossible in that regard. Which is why I needed the assistance of one of your mother’s tiny minions to get you under my control. The dim-looking one.”

Cora raised the mortar in front of Emma’s face. “One crushed heart, a large quantity of fairy dust and several ingredients that are far too advanced to explain to an absolute beginner such as yourself. Suffice it to say, only a master such as myself would be able to concoct this successfully.”

The older woman unveiled an eyedropper in her free hand and filled it with the liquid in the mortar. Holding Emma’s eyelids open with two fingers, she split the contents between each eye.

Stepping back a few feet, Cora surveyed her handiwork and barked out a sick cackle.

“Tell me, do you feel…happy?”

XXXX

The Charmings and their new de facto High Council surveyed the crowd, which was murmuring loudly in rumors, nerves and confusion. The scene looked exactly as it did three days earlier with two notable exceptions.

The earlier grid search turned up nothing, leaving the group with the only choice of postponing court and appealing to their fellow residents for help in finding the women.

As Snow rose to the podium, the crowd noise disappeared into silence. “Friends,” she announced thickly. “There will be no court today. Emma and Blue are missing and we need your help to find them.”

Shocked cries of “No!” and “What?” rang out among those who had not heard the news. While Snow tried to rein the rabble back into silence, the back doors to the auditorium blew open in an ear-shattering bang as Emma Swan walked through, strode halfway up the aisle and stopped.

“EMMA!”

Regina and Snow’s cries were nearly instantaneous as they sprinted off the stage and rushed toward the blonde, only to be quickly thwarted. Emma calmly raised her arms and pushed them out to either side, an action that sent Regina and Snow hurtling into opposite walls of the room, immobilized.

“Emma! What the —?”

Dead-eyed, The Savior’s head turned at the sound of her father’s voice, silently, emotionlessly repeating the move, which pinned David, Granny, Ruby and Nova against walls throughout the room.

Regina watched the scene unfold in horror, immediately flashing back to her nightmare in which Emma restrained her against an apple tree on Main Street. The blonde had the same, vacant, enraged expression. _What in the world—_

“Does anyone else wish to try my patience today?” Heads swiveled to the back of the room as an orotund voice boomed from behind.

Regina gasped in terror, her pinned limbs automatically jerking at a sound that set every nerve in her body ablaze with fear.

“Mother,” she breathed incredulously.

Cora Mills strode regally into the room, patting Emma affectionately on the cheek as she passed. “Well done, dear,” she praised.

Black eyes carefully scanned the room as she searched for…

“Regina,” she crooned, walking closer. “I met your lover. She’s darling.”

“Leave her alone, Mother.” Her voice was tight with warning.

“Or what? I seem to have every advantage, as always.”

Cora naturally headed to the front of the room, back ramrod straight, as at-home as if this were her own throne room. She spotted a cool ally in the otherwise petrified crowd and smiled warmly.

“Rumple,” she cooed. “Are you well?”

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“Join me?”

“I prefer to watch events unfold, although I am at your service as always,” he assured smooth as silk, with a shallow nod of his head.

“Excellent, we’ll talk over tea later.”

Continuing up the main aisle, Cora stopped at the front of the room, her casual tone immediately replaced with undisguised disdain.

“This?” she spat at Regina. “ _This_ is your grand accomplishment? You threw everything away for this…slum?” Cora widened her arms in mock awe.

Regina bit back the urge to fight and remained silent, trying to bide time and figure out how to reverse the binding spell. She eyed her similarly constrained friends around the room and saw they weren’t faring any better.

“I asked you a question!” Cora reminded shrilly.

“I had my reasons, Mother.”

“Oh, _reasons_. Yes, _your_ reasons. And they always unfold perfectly, don’t they? Your plan to elope with that peasant. Your countless schemes to kill Snow White. Your desire to be a mother. A mother, my dear? _You?_ That worked out quite well, I’d say.”

Cora laughed sickly, enjoying eviscerating her daughter in such a public way. “And now you are in love with your mortal enemy’s daughter. A child of True Love.”

Pure disdain and disbelief settled on Cora’s face. “How could you ever believe that a union between The Savior and the Evil Queen would be anything other than a complete disaster?”

She shook her head in anger. “I simply do not understand you, Regina,” she snapped in frustration, control loosening. “You are gorgeous, magical and royal. You are _my_ child. HOW CAN YOU BE SO FOOLISH?”

Cora’s unfettered rage was so palpable, the bulbs in the nearest overhead light blew over her head, sending sparks flying and shrieks from the cowering crowd, already on edge. The unexpected noise and light show grabbed Cora’s attention for a few seconds, enough time for Leroy to sneak behind her and douse her with fairy dust, freezing her on the spot.

Those pinned against the wall fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap. Emma wobbled and dropped to one knee, trying to clear her head, focus and ease her pounding skull.

As she watched her handiwork undone, the dark witch howled with rage, a noise so guttural and foul it sent chills up the spine of anyone within earshot. Her face contorted in unholy fury, Cora struggled against the shimmering spell until it loosened enough for her to vanish in a blinding flash.

For several seconds, no one moved, the only sound Emma’s panting breaths and the intermittent crackle of the sparking bulb. Then, in an instant, the crowd roared in fear and sprinted out the door in a steady stream, leaving only Regina, Emma and their allies.

Rumple was the last to exit, slowly strolling out as if it were lazy Sunday along the beach.

“Gold!” Snow begged. “You _have_ to help.”

“On the contrary, Your Grace, I don’t _have_ to do anything. I simply wish to see how this…disagreement ends.” A slick, reptilian smile transformed his face. “I must say, I did not see that coming,” he added, nodding at Leroy. “Good day.”

“Emma!” Snow cried, realizing her missing child had returned and was kneeling just across the room. She ran to Emma’s side and helped her to her feet only to nearly send her back down to the floor with a desperate hug.

“Oww! Careful,” she wheezed, her pupils just starting to return to their normal size, her focus tightening. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“Oh, of course, honey, I’m sorry.” Tears streamed down Snow’s face as she ran her hands over Emma’s head, cradled her face and grabbed her shoulders, needing to feel solid flesh and bone to ensure her only child was truly back and only slightly the worse for wear.

David, Ruby and Granny walked up, gently patting the woman on the back and squeezing her shoulder as she began to look around quickly, suddenly in a panic.

“Where’s…”

Green eyes grabbed brown as she spied her love, sitting on the floor, back against the wall, trying to process the events of the past 24 hours. Regina’s emotions and brain were so whiplashed in such a short time, she could barely comprehend the requirements for returning to her feet.

“Regina.” Emma’s defenses, bravado and brave face buckled in body-wracking sobs as she unsteadily wove her way across the room. She tried to collapse into the brunette’s lap but was stopped by two arms held out in defense. Her vision clearing, she kneeled in front of her girlfriend, shocked not to find the comfort and joy she expected, but rather a face of anger and hurt.

“You promised!” Regina roared, slapping Emma across her good cheek. “You promised me you would be careful and you walked into my mother’s clutches. _My mother!_ How _could_ you?”

Ruby stepped forward to intervene, but was held back by Granny’s firm grip. “Leave them be.” Snow and company retreated to another part of the hall to give the couple their privacy and figure out what the hell just happened and what they were going to do next.

The former Evil Queen disintegrated into a wail as raw as an exposed nerve. “You went into those woods _alone_ like an _idiot_. Everyone I love leaves me and I can’t bear it any longer. _I lose everyone I love_.”

Regina leaned forward and roughly pushed Emma away by the shoulder. “Go,” she sobbed. “Leave me.” Regina bent over herself, nearly curled in a ball, her shoulders shaking with convulsive gasps and hitched breath.

“No.”

Regina looked up, annoyed at Emma’s disobedience. “I said, go!”

Sobered by Regina’s reaction, Emma had stopped crying, tear tracks still staining her cheeks. Her voice was calm and firm. “And I said no. I am never leaving you.”

“Fuck you, Emma!” Regina’s eyes blazed with fury while Emma’s mouth formed a perfect O of surprise. The only time Regina ever swore was in the bedroom, and even that was rather rare.

The shock of the profanity combined with the absurdity of recent events sent Emma into another inappropriate laughing fit.

“Ah, oh God, this hurts,” she giggled, “but I can’t help it.”

Regina’s indignant, “Don’t you dare laugh at me!” only threw gas on the fire, causing Emma to laugh harder. She easily beat back the brunette’s rather flimsy defensive moves and curled into her lap.

“I love you so much,” Emma sighed between giggles, pillowed on Regina’s chest.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.” Emma’s eyes were closed as she luxuriated in an embrace she wasn’t sure she’d ever enjoy again. She languidly drew in the scent of Regina’s perfume, her laundry detergent, her skin. Scents she had come to equate with a single word: home.

“I love you desperately,” the brunette sighed, kissing a crown of blonde curls.

“I know that, too.”

Regina instinctively found herself rocking Emma in her lap, a move designed to comfort the blonde but one that worked just as effectively on her, as well. She rubbed Emma’s back in soothing circles until the woman’s breathing slowly regained a steady pace.

“Your mother, she’s—”

“A piece of work, I know. So are you.” Appraising the body in her lap, she traced the outline of the gash on Emma’s cheek. “She hurt you. Did she do anything else?”

Emma fought back a shiver as her mind flashed to Cora’s perverted pseudo lap dance. “Uh, nothing that drinking a gallon of bleach won’t cure.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “I’ll explain later,” Emma noted, tilting her head up for a gentle kiss. “I suppose we have to get up and figure out what to do next?”

“Yes.”.

“OK, let’s go.”

Emma unfurled herself from Regina’s lap and slowly stood. Once steady, she reached down and held out her hand, pulling her love into a full-body embrace. Emma tucked her head into Regina’s neck and reveled in the feeling of olive skin under her lips.

“I am never leaving you, got it?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Emma grabbed Regina’s hand and gently pulled her toward the others. They arrived hand-in-hand, shy smiles on their faces.

“Are you hurt?” David asked, brow wrinkled in concern.

“Nah, I’ll be OK. So, what did I miss?”

Before anyone could answer Emma’s joke and ask the dozens of questions they had on tap, Regina interrupted. “Wait,” she insisted, turning toward Leroy. “Where did you get that dust? I thought it was all gone.”

Nova and Leroy shared a smirk before the nun chimed in. “I was so panicked about Mother’s disappearance and the state of the reserves, I forgot one important thing: I had one small bottle hidden in my room.”

“But isn’t that forbidden?” Snow remarked. “I thought all fairy dust was under Mother’s supervision.”

“Normally, yes. But when she started acting odd, I snuck down to the cellar to grab a small vial. Before we left the cloister today I gave it to Leroy for safekeeping. After all, who was the one person in this room you’d expect to have fairy dust?”

“And who’s the one person you’d least expect?” the dwarf added with a wry grin. “But that really was the last of it.”

Everyone nodded solemnly, then Snow asked the question everyone was afraid to voice.

“Where’s Blue?”

“Dead,” Emma replied quietly. “Cora told me she killed her months ago and was posing as her since.”

“Why is she here?”

Emma looked up, wanting to avoid Regina’s eyes, but forcing herself to hold them and remain strong so her lover wouldn’t have to face the truth alone.

“For me, obviously,” Regina answered.

“No.” Emma released Regina’s hand and wound her arm around the brunette’s waist for support. “She’s here for Henry.”

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews sincerely appreciated. Buckle up, final battle - and final chapter - is next.


	16. Chapter 16

The mere mention of her son’s name in connection with her vengeful, psychotic mother, immediately sent Regina Mills’ world spinning.

“Whoa! Whoa-whoa-whoa!” Emma cried, holding the slumping woman around the waist.

Leroy and David rushed to aid the brunette, helping Emma slowly lower her to a chair.

“Regina! Regina, stay with me,” she ordered sternly, crouched in front of the fading woman, gently slapping her cheeks. “C’mon, baby,” she urged, “eyes open.”

“You know…” Regina began, her eyes fluttering, “you know I hate that.”

“Heh, I knew that would get you.” Emma smiled warmly and kissed her on the forehead. “There’s my girl. Somebody get us some water, please?”

Snow sprinted out of sight, quickly returning with a paper cup. Regina sipped slowly, the ringing in her ears subsiding as she leaned over, bracing her forearms on her thighs.

Emma looked over her shoulder at her mother. “Got any Motrin? My head is still killing me from whatever the hell Cora did to my brain.”

“Are you alright?” Snow asked worriedly, grabbing her purse and tossing a small bottle at the blonde. “What exactly did she do to you?”

“I don’t know. She put something in my eyes, some liquid.” Emma quickly dry-swallowed three tablets. “I couldn’t really see and my head felt thick and super heavy. It was weird, I was there, I knew what I was doing, but I couldn’t control what I did. I’d, like, hear something in my head and just do it.”

“It’s a mind-control spell,” Regina noted quietly from her seat.

“Did she ever—”

“No, not to me. I was so scared of her I would do whatever she said. I didn’t dare defy her. Just once and…” The brunette trailed off, lost in sad memories.

Emma took the seat next to Regina and placed a comforting hand on her back, the others gathering around.

“So, what’s her angle?” Leroy dove right in.

“She said she wants Henry as an apprentice. To raise him to become a king.”

“You mean a monster,” Regina added darkly.

“That’s what it sounded like. And she was, you know, gonna kill all of us in order to pull it off.”

Granny snorted, her crossbow still slung over one shoulder. “She could still make good on that. We didn’t kill her and we don’t know where she is.”

Emma piped up. “I’d guess she’s looking for Henry.”

All heads swiveled to Leroy, who pulled out his phone. “Fine, relax.” The dwarf dialed the number to the Miners House and scowled impatiently. “Hey, how’s the kid? Good. Listen, the dark witch is here and looking for him…no, not her, the other one, Cora.”

Emma caught Regina’s eyes and winked.

“We’re figuring out what to do, just lay low, alright? Thanks.”

Leroy hung up and jammed the phone back into his pocket. “The kid’s fine. If they think she’s coming, they’ll stash him in one of the hidey holes we’ve got throughout the house.”

Emma smirked at her deputy. “Hidey holes?”

“Don’t ask,” he grumbled. “Whatever, he’s safe.”

“No one will suspect he’s with the dwarves,” David reassured. “We’re the only ones who know where he is. Think about it: If you were looking for Henry, where would you think he’d be?”

“With one of us,” Snow remarked.

“Exactly. Our apartment, Regina’s house, the station, Granny’s. He won’t be easy to find, it buys us a little time.”

Regina sat up straight, the color returned to her cheeks. “I know my mother, she always has a plan. Given this didn’t turn out like she expected, she will regroup and try again. Charming’s right, we have a little time. But we need to go on the offensive, take the fight to her.”

“What do you mean?” Nova asked, eyes narrowed in concern.

“My mother is not a good improviser. If we fall into her plan – like we almost did tonight - she’s nearly unstoppable. But if we attack her, we stand a better chance.”

Granny looked unconvinced. “And just how do we do that?”

“I’m not quite sure.”

The shrill ring of Charming’s cell interrupted the silence. “Sheriff’s Station….OK, stay put….We’ll get on it.”

The prince’s eyes scanned his friends and family as he ended the call. “Well, we better figure it out soon. That was your neighbor. Cora’s tearing up your house.”

XXXX

Twenty minutes later, Emma Swan stood in the middle of Main Street, illuminated by streetlamps like a ghostly gunfighter. She bounced on the balls of her feet, hoping to stave off her growing nerves and the dropping temperature. The group decided to lure Cora to them and the sleepy town’s business district was the perfect place. At this time of night, the street and stores were deserted, especially given that every resident had fled town hall and rushed straight home to hide. Casualties could be kept to a minimum.

“Or none,” Snow had added hopefully.

Regina, Snow, Charming, Granny, Nova, Ruby and Leroy crouched out of sight behind the front windows of various businesses on either side of the road. They were scattered for their own safety and realistically were simply moral support. Regina had been adamant that anyone interfering would stand zero chance of defeating the woman and a 100% certainty of being killed.

Emma stopped bouncing and began slowly shuffling side-to-side, kicking one heel against the other in a soothing rhythm. Lost in thought, she unexpectedly remembered the paper talisman she always carried. She fished it out with her right hand and strained to read it in the low light:

_Thinking of you today. Be safe. See you tonight. Yours – R_

Kissing it, she quickly tucked it back into her jacket’s breast pocket. _Christ, I hope so._

Regina reviewed the plan in her head as she watched her love pace in place, waiting for Cora to make a grand entrance. Her heart squeezed as she witnessed her stubbornly valiant knight await possible death, defended only by a winter coat and a flimsy shielding spell. The hope was the spell would take Cora by surprise, giving Regina enough time to apparate to the blonde’s side and combine their magic to defeat her.

“Are you sure?” Emma had asked seriously.

“I haven’t done it in decades, but I will. We have no choice.”

XXXX

“You! You there with the animal!”

Archie froze as a shrill voice roared out from Regina’s front door. He would do anything for Snow and her family, but he really wished they would have picked someone else for this task. Given the voice, a surprisingly small woman suddenly appeared before him in the street, her face twisted in rage.

“Have you seen the Mayor and her son?” she demanded impatiently. Pongo began barking uncontrollably; Cora glared at the dog so fiercely, it immediately ran behind the therapist’s legs and shivered in fear.

“I….I…” Archie mused that Cora looked ordinary enough, as if she were on her way to work, dark pantsuit covered by a long, black, belted trenchcoat. But he quickly realized that pound for pound this woman was the most terrifying force he’d ever encountered in his life. His heart instantly hurt for Regina and the life to which she had been subjected. Suddenly, everything made sense.

“Speak, you imbecile!”

“Granny’s. I drove by Granny’s about 10 minutes ago and I saw them walking in. They’re probably at dinner, I guess.”

In a microsecond, the most dangerous woman in any realm had disappeared, replaced by a quickly evaporating plume of purple smoke, only to reappear in an instant in front of the dark diner.

Cora grunted in frustration, then heard a lone voice calling out in the distance.

“Come out, come out, you fucking sadistic bitch!”

A ripple of nervous laughter bubbled up from Ruby’s throat as she knelt behind the front window of the shoe store. She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth; that entreaty was not part of Regina’s plan. _Jesus, Emma. Subtle._

Cora suddenly appeared five feet from Emma, immediately blasting the sheriff with a shot of magic, only to have it bounce off the blonde and back onto the witch, stunning her.

The elder Mills staggered backward several feet, shook it off and cleared her throat. She hadn’t anticipated the woman would be defended.

“A shielding spell? Charming trick, Miss Swan. Did my daughter arm you? It seems a tad above your candle-lighting expertise.”

Emma held her tongue, glaring at the embodiment of pure evil.

“And where is my daughter? Is she foolishly trying to protect my grandson? Did she run away, unable to watch me kill another one of her lovers?

Cora slowly turned in a 360, scanning the deserted street.

“Show yourself, Regina,” she commanded.

The pair eyed each other warily, both waiting for Regina to appear.

Cora sighed, exasperated as if her child had tracked muddy boots across her clean kitchen floor. “Not only does she continue to disappoint, she continues to disobey. At her age. Honestly.”

Hands on her hips, she made one last offer. “I am giving you one warning, Regina. Show yourself now. I won’t kill your lover until you are here to witness it.” Cora chuckled to herself, amused at her own ingenuity. “But I will break your pitiful shielding spell and torture her mercilessly until you do.”

Both women looked around again. Nothing.

“Another life on your soul, my darling,” Cora sing-songed. She arced a short stream of purple at the blonde, which sliced through Emma’s defenses like tissue paper and wheeled her body sideways as if she was hit with a punch.

Cora flicked her hand with mild disdain, an innocent move that snapped Emma’s head to the right, a magical sucker punch. She reeled several steps, only to stand straight once she regained her balance, adopting a fighting stance.

“So predictable. You truly are The Savior, rushing into situations that are obviously dangerous, ill-advised and doomed. Pathetic.”

Like a cat batting around a mouse, Cora assaulted Emma all over Main Street. She wobbled from blast to blast like a tennis ball. A burst of magic would throttle her body, causing her to stagger left only to have another stream hit her and send her back to the right.

Muscles weak and spasming, the bursts soon sent her to the ground, but The Savior continued to stagger to feet time after time. Her body and clothes were telling the tale of her punishment. Her jacket hadn’t lasted more than a minute, leaving her jeans and hoodie charred and ripped open in jagged tears by each attack.

 _I look like Wolverine at the end of X-Men 3,_ she thought wryly. _God, what a shitty movie._

Behind the front window of Modern Fashions, Snow made a move to leap to her feet and aid her daughter, only to have Charming grab her tightly and drag her back down.

“No.”

“She’s killing her!”

“And you will die first. Regina _will_ get there. We need to do as she said and stay put.”

Across the street at Game of Thorns, Regina Mills was panicking. She had overestimated her ability to apparate, attempting the spell over and over. She began to fail quicker each time, making the incantation harder to recreate. Her focus kept getting pulled to the street, watching Emma take the beating of her life. She had to appear instantly at Emma’s side for their plan to work. Simply walking into the street would draw her mother’s fire, but the former queen was no match for Cora’s skills. She needed to combine her magic with Emma’s; it was their only chance.

“Nova!” she pleaded to the fairy kneeling at her right. _“Help me.”_

Head hammering and nerves thrumming from absorbing so much unfettered magic, Emma fell to the ground once more. Her equilibrium was shot thanks to the magical beatdown and her torso throbbed with random burns from the blasts. Each time it got harder to stand up. _C’mon, baby. I’m fading. Any time now._

“What, no candle lighting Em-ma?” Cora taunted, a perverse smile twisting her blood-red lips.

Hit with another blast, Emma’s limbs flailed loosely like a marionette with cut strings. She practically bounced off the frozen pavement, sand and gravel cutting and scraping her palms as she tried to catch herself. Emma rose to one knee, took a deep breath and slowly pushed herself to her feet. She chuckled and spat out a stream of bloody saliva. “I’m not wasting my energy on that. I’m staying alive so I can watch Regina kick your ass.”

“You’re not doing anything other than amusing me,” she hissed. “ _I_ am keeping you alive for my own pleasure. I could end your pitiful existence at any time.”

Emma stretched her arms out to the side, bloody palms up. “Bring it, you fucking maniac. I don’t give a shit.” _Regina, I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I love you. And I think I’m going to die. I’m sorry, sweetheart._

A lupine smile stretched across Cora’s face as she wordlessly extended both hands and unleashed a continuous bolt of magic that rocketed Emma to the ground with such force it was if she had been hit by a car. Her lean, muscled body jerked spastically on the pavement like a fish out of water.

“You foolish girl,” she jeered.

Cora scanned the street once more. “Regina, I am getting bored,” she warned. “If Miss Swan could speak, she would tell you this is extremely painful. If you feel anything for her – and Gods help me, I know you do – spare her this pain. Come face me with dignity and allow me to end her suffering.”

“Regina, focus!” Nova yelled, raising her voice as loud as she had ever pushed it. The nun grabbed the brunette’s chin and physically turned her head from the window. “You have cried and you have worried. It is time to fight. Concentrate and fight.”

Brown eyes filled with fright, uncertainty and tears gazed back. Nova grabbed Regina’s hands and squeezed. “Concentrate and fight.” In a second, the nun’s hands were empty.

Regina instantly appeared at Emma’s side, eyes trained on her mother. One hand grabbed the blonde’s forearm, the other stretched out, fingers splayed at Cora. Regina’s arrival disrupted the assault for a few seconds and was quickly followed by the couple’s joined, amplified magic surging toward the dark witch. The combined force slammed a surprised Cora to the concrete with a shriek. Enraged, she quickly returned to her feet, opened her palms and curled her fingers defensively, pushing her powers back, both streams meeting in the middle of the street like two firehoses aimed at each other.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry,” Regina cried, unable to take her eyes off of her target. “Stay with me, love. This won’t work if you pass out.”

Emma remained flat on her back, turning her head slowly to cough out a stream of blood. “We must be fucked if you’re calling me baby,” she observed with a watery chuckle.

A thick charge of electricity hung in the air, crackling and sparking. Even the couple’s allies hiding in the storefronts could feel the buzz, the hair on their arms and back of their necks standing on end. Nova watched the two opposing surges crash against each other in a match of sheer endurance. The winner would be the person who could sustain her power the longest, and given Emma’s state and Regina’s decades of magical dormancy, Nova knew Cora would win easily if this dragged out much longer.

She was desperately trying to think of a plan when she spotted an object on the ground, several feet behind the elder Mills. Nova sprinted out the back door of the florist’s and headed down the alley, praying Regina and Emma could hold on for just a little while longer.

“Admit it, Regina, you’re weak,” Cora taunted, hoping to break her daughter’s concentration. One slight quiver was all it would take. “You’re a failure, darling, you will _always_ fail.”

The dark witch could feel Regina’s energy fading, she walked closer to the pair, lengthening her attack and shortening theirs. It wouldn’t be long now.

“But take heart, dear, I will ensure Henry is raised as strong as you are feeble. He will come to learn the only thing in the world worthy of love is power. Your death will not be in vain, it will allow your son to flourish and be the greatest Mills the world has ever seen.”

“I FOUND THE BOY!”

Both Mills women halted their offensive and snapped their heads to the source of the declaration: Leroy, who had opened the door of the bakery, shouted, then dashed out the back as fast as he could. Cora couldn’t resist the temptation to apparate to the spot to investigate, which gave Nova just enough time to sprint from the opposite direction and grab the object she spotted: the Blue Fairy’s wand. She immediately pointed the wand at Cora, immobilizing her.

Nova looked into Regina’s eyes, communicating the question that had to be asked. The brunette closed her eyes for a second, drew a deep breath and nodded.

“Regina, no! I…I was wrong. Please, my love, I can repent,” she begged. “Think of what you’re doing.”

Staring at her mother in pity, she felt a hand weakly grip her arm from below. “You’re not buying any of this, are you?” Emma wheezed.

“No, love, I’m not.”

“You don’t need her, Regina. I am your family. Henry’s your family. You have…” Emma stopped, the pain and fluid in her chest nearly overpowering her. “Jesus, this hurts. We’re your family.”

“Regina,” Nova interrupted nervously. “I don’t know how long I can hold her.”

Regina nodded once more, raised her hands and immediately reduced Cora Mills to ashes.

“Goodbye, Mother.”

The destruction of the most powerful woman in any known realm produced a shockwave of energy that blew Nova and Regina backward onto the pavement, knocking the air out of their lungs and shattering every streetlight on the main thoroughfare. The area was plunged into near-total darkness, lit only by a waning quarter moon.

Ears ringing, Regina made out the muffled sounds of her allies running out from their hiding places, using their cell phones to light the way. Snow was immediately at Emma’s side.

“Don’t touch me!” Emma croaked before her mother could even extend a hand. “Ambulance.”

Snow nodded and slipped off to call the paramedics, leaving the unmoving couple side by side in the middle of Main Street, flat on their backs, bloody and broken under a cold, clear February night sky.

“Emma?” Regina whispered.

“Hurts to breathe. Can’t move. I feel like I’ve been stabbed everywhere and I think I broke…everything. Are you OK?”

“I’ll live, my love. Although I can’t seem to be able to move a muscle right now.”

“Pfft, keep me company,” she giggled, “Oh, fuck, no laughing, shit. Ow.”

Emma sucked in short breaths, trying to calm her breathing and not choke on the fluid filling her throat or dwell on the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. She heard, and then felt, Regina’s hand slide across the gravel and gently take hers.

“Emma,” Regina husked, reaching for the woman’s hand. “It’s someday.”

“What?”

“Marry me.”

“Am I dead?”

“Today, right now…it’s someday. Marry me.”

“Are you serious?”

Regina’s voice was firm and clear, Emma could easily picture the determined look on her face. “As serious as I’ve ever been about anything. Marry me.”

“I can’t move my head, I can’t even look at you.” A brutal coughing fit violently shook her torso, interrupting her reply. “Fuck! Where is that bus?...You’re sure you don’t want to do this in a more-romantic setting?”

“I don’t want to wait a second longer. Marry me.”

Emma squeezed Regina’s hand. “Jesus, I wish I could kiss you right now,” she rasped. “Yes.” The Savior swore she heard her - _wow, fiancé_ – crying softly over the sound of an ambulance as she finally, mercifully passed out.

XXXX

Sixteen hours later, Nova walked into Emma’s hospital room to find The Savior propped up in a hospital bed, Regina holding her hand, looking fiercely protective despite the absence of any threat short of a testy nurse with an odd hairdo.

“No! Va!” Emma cheered.

“And hello to you, too. How is your pain medication?”

“Plentiful,” Regina chuckled. “But necessary.”

“What was the final diagnosis?”

Regina’s bright smile faded. “Broken collarbone, four broken ribs and a punctured lung were the worst. There were a lot of burns, but I was able to heal them.”

“She had her hands _all over my body_ ,” Emma stage whispered, feigning shock.

The shy nun blushed at the image and quickly tried to move on. “And how are you?”

The brunette shook her head at her 29-going-on-12 fiancé. “Fine. I had the wind knocked out of me with that last volley, and temporary magical paralysis, but I was up and walking within the hour.”

“I didn’t mean physically.”

“Oh.” Regina looked down in thought. “As expected. It will take time, but I will be fine.”

Nova turned her attention to Emma. “Your mother said you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, and thanks for coming,” she added sincerely. “I know you have a lot going on at the cloister, but this can’t wait.” The blonde paused, looked at Regina thoughtfully and then back at the fairy. “I need you to marry us, right now.”

“Of course!” she squealed. “I love weddings!”

Regina gasped. “What?”

“You asked me to marry you last night. You said, ‘today, right now.’ I was in no shape to hit the chapel last night, but I’m fine now. I want to marry you today. Right here.”

Regina sat speechless, but soon recovered. “I meant a betrothal!”

“We can do this again whenever you want, in front of whoever you want with flowers, rings, Henry - the whole deal. But I don’t want to wait to officially start our lives together. I want to be yours. This will be just like Christmas Eve, just us. Right now.”

“You _are_ mine,” Regina sniffed, her eyes wet with tears.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

“I have no idea.”

Emma turned to Nova, who was grinning like a fool in the background. “Can we do this here? Officially?”

“Absolutely, all we need is a witness.”

Regina looked stymied. “I don’t want that mean nurse,” Emma declared seriously.

“Wait,” the fairy added, “I have the perfect idea. Be right back.”

Regina moved her chair perpendicular to Emma’s bed, leaning over to kiss her sweetly.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” she smiled, an expression that quickly faded into a frown. “Wait, aren’t you? If you’re not we can wait, I just —”

“No, I have never wanted anything more in my life.” Emma’s grin returned. “The timing surprised me, that’s all.”

“I meant what I said, if you want a big vow renewal or reception, whatever, I promise we’ll do it. Henry can walk us down the aisle, the whole nine yards.”

The couple turned their heads at the footsteps approaching the room and found a grinning Nova, with Leroy hot on her heels.

“Look who I found at the nurses’ station!”

“Stupid paperwork for the report. That friggin’ charge nurse is a bitch. Oh, sorry, sister. Why is everyone in this room smiling like an idiot? Emma, I get, she’s probably high as a kite. But you two,” he wondered, nodding at Regina and the nun.

Nova smiled sweetly. “Uh, very well, Leroy, Emma has something she would like to ask you?”

“Hey, man, wanna be my maid of honor?”

The miner screwed up his face in confusion and walked to the side of the Sheriff’s bed. “What the hell do they have you on? Morphine? Is the pump busted?” He inspected the drug pump as if he could determine a mechanical problem. “That stuff’s supposed to be regulated, you must be gettin’ too much. I’m disappointed in you,” he scolded, walking around to face Regina. “You shoulda been keeping an eye on this.”

“I—”

“Leroy, I’m not high. Nova is marrying us right now and we need a witness. Will you do it?”

“I…what? Really?”

“We don’t wish to wait,” the former queen added, her voice thick with emotion.

Leroy turned to Nova, his eyes softening at the corners. “Is this legit?”

“Very,” the quiet nun smiled. “Emma is of sound mind…” Regina couldn’t resist a quick snort. “And I wish you could feel it, their love for each other radiates off them in waves, it’s nearly tangible. It’s so beautiful. They just need a witness.”

Blushing a touch at Nova’s enthusiastic description, the miner glanced at the floor in embarrassment, then agreed. “Then, yeah, sure.”’

“Excellent!” Nova chirped, clapping her hands in excitement. “Alright, Emma stay where you are,” she instructed, giggling at her own joke. “Regina, stay seated next to her, you’re perfect where you are. Leroy, stand to my right.”

“OK, here we go.” Nova blew out an excited breath and was just about to begin when the charge nurse blew through the closed door without knocking.

“Miss Swan, it’s time for your—”

“OUT!” roared all four participants in unison. The chorus of demands momentarily stunned the stern-faced woman, who wheeled on her heel and retreated back through the door, but not before shooting a parting glare at the group.

“OK, now, here we go,” Nova smiled. “Emma, is it true that you come of your own free will and accord and are of sound mind?”

“Yes,” she noted solemnly, shooting Leroy a dirty look.

“Regina, is it true that you come of your own free will and accord and are of sound mind?”

“Yes.”

“Please join hands with your betrothed and listen to that which I am about to say. Above you are the stars, below you are the stones, as time doth pass, remember…”

“Like a stone, should your love be firm. Like a star, should your love be constant. Let the powers of the mind and of the intellect guide you in your marriage, let the strength of your wills bind you together, let the power of love and desire make you happy, and the strength of your dedication make you inseparable. Be close, but not too close. Possess one another, yet be understanding. Have patience with one another, for storms will come, but they will pass quickly.”

“Be free in giving affection and warmth. Have no fear and let not the ways of the unenlightened give you unease, for you have each other, always.”

Emma and Regina only had eyes for each other as Nova’s words cascaded over them like a gentle breeze. Emma winked, Regina mouthing, "I love you" in a silent reply.

“Regina, please take Emma’s right hand with your left…oh.” Nova stopped, looking perplexed. “We need a—”

“Binding cord,” Emma supplied. “Right.”

Regina turned to her near-wife, a puzzled look on her face. “How do you know about binding cords?”

“Uh, I asked my Dad.”

“Why?” she inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“I was curious about how people got married back in the, uh, you know…” Rosy pink colored the blonde’s cheeks as she quickly spied a solution. “That tape. That tape there.”

Leroy picked up a roll of 1-inch medical tape the nurses used to change Emma’s dressings. “Will this work?” he asked, passing it over.

Nova nodded with a smile and placed it in her palm, her lips moving in a quiet blessing. As soon as Regina and Emma joined hands, Nova bound them together.

The women gazed at each other in giddy disbelief as the fairy led them through the ceremony. Emma’s eyes were shiny with joy and Regina’s smile as brilliant as her love had ever seen. It all seemed too good to be true. Wonderful things happened only to others, never them, until now. Blood thrummed in Emma’s ears as Nova began the vows.

“I ask you both: Will you share in each other’s pain and seek to alleviate it?”

“I will.”

“I will.”

Literally and figuratively this seemed like an appropriate place to start, Nova mused. She glanced at the couple’s joined hands. While Emma’s right hand was joined to Regina’s, her left was taped and boarded, home to an IV pumping pain-killing drugs into her battered body. These two women had certainly endured both physical and emotional pain throughout their entire lives, persevering only through their combined strength.

“Will you share in laughter and look for the brightness and the positive in each other?”

“I will.”

“I will.”

It all seemed so surreal to the former Evil Queen. No longer threatened by her mother, the burden of a decades-long secret or the worry of losing her son, Regina realized she finally would get her happy ending, the laughter and the brightness that had been missing from her life for so long.

“Will you share your burdens so that your spirits may grow in this union?”

“I will.”

“I will.”

“Will you take the heat of anger and use it to temper the strength of this union?”

“I will.”

“I will.”

Emma smirked, giving Regina’s hand a squeeze.

“Will you honor each other as equals in this union?”

“I will.”

“I will.”

“May these hands be blessed this day. May they always hold each other. May they have the strength to hang on during the storms of stress and the dark of disillusionment. May they remain tender and gentle as they nurture each other in their wondrous love. May they build a relationship founded in love and rich in caring. May these hands be healer, protector, shelter and guide for each other.”

Nova paused for a few seconds of silence, allowing the gravity and solemnity of the moment to sink in.

“On behalf of those present, and by the strength of your own love, I pronounce you married,” she smiled. “You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

Regina leaned into Emma’s hospital bed and with her free hand gently cupped her new wife’s face, bending in for a thorough, languid kiss.

A loud knock interrupted their first kiss as a married couple. The door swung open to reveal the persistent nurse, face set in a scowl.

“Miss Swan, it’s time for your—“

“Hey, lady,” Emma grinned, holding up the newlyweds’ still-joined hands. “It’s _Mrs._ Swan…Mills.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been nearly six months from the time I typed “This is such a bad idea…” to “The End.” Please indulge me while I thank some folks:
> 
> First, a can’t-make-it-big-enough thank you to Alaska829Snow, who beta’d every single word of what I initially pitched to her as a sub-10K, funny, fluffy three-parter. I want to say I’m sorry about traumatizing her for life with handsy Cora Mills from Ch. 15 but I’d be lying if I did, LOL.
> 
> Next, thank you to everyone who reviewed this story, especially the guest reviewer of Ch. 2, who urged me to keep the tension between the women. That request led me to rethink the arc of the story and turn it into what became a 75,000+ -word grand adventure. The comments and observations of other reviewers along the way sparked great ideas for scenes, as well, so thank you. You made the story what it is. A very special thank you to the cadre of faithful folks who commented on every chapter; it was greatly appreciated and I always looked forward to your reactions.
> 
> Finally, I’d like to make one request: For any story that you download, Bookmark or Subscribe (from me or any author, any fandom), please leave at least one review or kudo. Just one. It can even be a one-word “Thanks.” When you write a non-canonical fic, the only outside satisfaction we writers get is from our fellow fans. We don’t see SQ on screen (yet, she typed hopefully), so we have to make it happen. And when you get discouraged with canon (as the Once creators seem to love doing to us), it can get hard to think up, write and complete compelling stories if no one is saying, “Yes, continue this! I can’t wait to read more.” It makes non-canonical fandom less lonely and discouraging and more fun and hopeful.
> 
> See you at the next story.


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